Trauma Poem by Marshall E Gass

Trauma



The serrated edges of the arc of reason cut deep
into the normal daily fabric of living
and strange unwelcomed thoughts spill over
into the uncontrollable urge to be
medicated and managed by those
who do not understand the demons
that reside within-
people not invited stay longer than dinner time
and that which was once normal
becomes a cascade of fear.

It was time to take the pill
keep the cages locked
control the fright and frailty
walk in the sunshine yet feel the ice
wake in the morning and feel night
dance in the town hall-feel the distance
and wear my heart on a sleeve.

I know
She will survive the strange voices
worship after the sun and sand
and walk in the light from the shadows
and sleep in the arms
of tenderness and love
fly with the angels of happiness
when life is ready to accept her
into arms waiting for the comfort
she so deserves.Be blessed.

Thursday, July 31, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: metaphor
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Author Notes

To a very special friend, who fought these very demons, everyday, and is now rising from the ashes of a long, long nightmare. I just want to say to you-that there is hope in everything. You are blessed.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved,13 days ago

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