Whose Eyes Weep

week-671

 

Yves at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie runs a daily writing challenge and I’ve enjoyed taking part in a few. The weekly Wordle challenge suggests twelve words, at least ten of which should be used to write about anything.

I saw  the words above and the following is what came to mind. 

 

Engorged on all that junk

each directed needlepoint a fistula

incinerating you from inside out

burning radiated channels

elation to deflation in your

diametric highs and lows

dwindling your stature

estimation in those eyes

watching helplessly your ass

hauled to every cheap bazaar

sick rendezvous to purloin

by all means

to scheme and barter

forgotten all forebodings of disaster

while your cantillations

protest all addiction

and whose eyes weep

Cory Monteith

My daughter asked me to write something that matters to her.

As it happens, this also matters to me.

Another child lost from life.

Thirty-one years is a babe.

Too young.

Too little.

Too late.

A face known to me by my children,

A voice, a smile, a song,

Talented, tormented and toppled,

Searching for far too long.

‘I’ve got the rest of my life to be a grown-up

And, for now, it’s ok to be young’,

Choices, drugs and pressure.

A life where the song has been sung