Living
through the pain
My
compatriot urged his dad
to
rage against the dying of the light
but my
rage is against pain
and
blood and tears and sweat
and
hope getting stomped
when
it peeps its little
chocolate-buttony
bright eyes
over
the top of the trench
where
it very wisely hid
until
optimism once more
triumphed
over experience.
I
watch you living through the pain
and I
try to find something positive
in
your brave, dogged fight
and I
love you for your strength,
your
weakness, your quirks,
your
failings, your heart
but I
cannot find anything positive
that
wasn't already a part of you
before
the adversary arrived
and
this torment began.
I want
to scoop you up
in my
arms and hold you
until
the danger passes
but
you see it never does.
That
bloody enemy stalks
us all
the time and never sleeps
and
even if I doze with one eye
open
it still sneaks in because
nobody
can win against it every time
and it
only needs to win once.
— Michele Brenton
— Michele Brenton
