Posted on by poeeternal · 3 Comments

Signs

There are signs posted with moss covering
Empty bottles where the devil is recovering
Dirty feathers all around in piles cluttering
And care is a word I hear you keep uttering

There are scabs where blood is spluttering
No cover for my mouth we are discovering
Though secrets are a map I’m not uncovering
And love is the only thing left hovering

© Delia Ross. 2020

I don’t know why he hasn’t let me drown. He needs to push me to the bottom of the ocean.
Something about caring?
I iz monster. 😭 How to stop the need?

I iz bad. Past my expiration date? Losing me mind. One moment at a time.

DEPRESSION AWARENESS

My LinkTree will take you places: https://linktr.ee/poeeternal

Posted on by poeeternal

Tristan and Jonathan’s Survival Fund

So, my kid has fallen on hard times. But because they are gay, finding help is harder. The Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and my financial problems have probably tilted over into another generation but we’re all in this boat together and some of us are seriously struggling.

Missouri is high crime and I don’t want my kid to wind up dead so if anybody could help it would be fantastic. It’s harder to find help because they are gay and Salvation Army is against LGBT.

Share this link too, it can help! 🙏 https://gf.me/u/y4mgzk

Because I myself am in a financial apocalypse, I can’t even donate to it currently and it would help ease my mind if somebody out there could pay it forward. I don’t want to be visiting my kid in the cemetery. I’m just about done with 2020 to be honest.

Look, they found themselves without an apartment and there’s moving expenses, first and last month’s deposits, application fees, supplies and rentals for hauling their things.

They are sleeping in their car in a high crime rate city. In the cold.

They are working. But they live paycheck to paycheck like the majority of the poor.

So I’m reaching out and asking for help. Please help them if you can. Everyone deserves a safe place to live. They didn’t have that and now they’re on the street.

Everyone needs a hand from time to time. There’s no shame in asking for help. What is shameful is hearing the cries of others and ignoring it. That happens all too often, I know. Because I myself became homeless for the first time in my life in 2017 and it wasn’t because I was lazy.

Izzy aged 9 months who now goes by Tristan. I gave births to this. It grew inside me. It fed from the milk in my breast for a year. Life is weird.

I am a mother, this is my ONLY child. Have mercy. 🙏

Self (left), Tristan (right,my kid). Peeps say we look like sisters LOL. THAT’S YER MOM they say!!!! Yups. Then I gets called olds. It’s a vicious cycle out there . I prefer being called a cub still, not a cougar. 😂
Being a mom is a big part of who I am. I take on the “mom” role for anyone younger and any chance I get. That’s me (left) and my kid (right).
The person I made a baby with is gone. He left this Earth already. Died a few years ago. This is him. I was 17 and pregnant with our baby. I rarely talk about him and this is a first time sharing this photo (of a photo). We considered this our first “family photo” because I was a very 6 months pregnant here. 🙂 I know people have babies all the time but it really does hurt. 🙂

We all 3 got 1 more photo together before he died of cancer. This is our last photo together. We were born into a broken home and made our home broken as well. I never married him though he asked (with hand and ring). I left him when my child was just a few months old. I remained a single parent until his death. Now single parent forever more.

Last photo all together, Tristan (left), Scott (middle), self (right). Taken June 2016 at the hospice in Nashville, Tennessee before he passed away of cancer. It was a hard fight. We stayed awake and for him until his very last breath. He fought some 3 very long days. I know this is hard to look at, the cancer had eaten him away. Not a moment after he passed the light flickered beside him, the first time since we’d been there, and his face fell soft and smiling like in peace. I hope he finally found it. You can’t convince me that life ends after death. I wasn’t the only one who saw the light flicker or felt the room get cold. You can’t take away my faith. It’s my middle name after all and more than a motto or tattoo on my chest… I’ve also lived in fox holes in the middle of a war in Iraq and that will teach you a thing or two about faith as well. But can someone help get my kid off the street because I can’t??
Self and my baby aged 9 months old (happily breastfed). Me age 18 and in a pair of Doc Martens. Some things never change. Photo by Scott (RIP).

I don’t have anything to do with the campaign, I didn’t create the campaign, this is their campaign. Just an FYI. When I get my next check, I’m going to be making a small donation from my tiny paycheck, that all goes to bills, and it won’t be very much to help out. So any help or shares will greatly ease my mind as a parent. To know that my kid is no longer sleeping in their car, in one of the most highest crime rated cities ever, and I can’t even help to get them off the fucking street. And it’s getting COLD there.

To whoever sees this out there and helps them, thank you. From one parent or human to another…

Thanks for listening! Please share this link – however you want- someone may heed the call! My kid is 23 and sleeping in the car! Helps!!!! Please!!! 🙏🙏🙏 https://gf.me/u/y4mgzk

Posted on by poeeternal · 8 Comments

About Me

It was long overdue but I’ve finally updated my ‘About Me‘ section on my blog, and added a gallery with a few photos from my time in the Army plus a little back history of my life. It includes a few hyperlinks as well to additional information (like that time I applied to the Mars One project to live on Mars and actually became an official candidate). And an article about my unit during wartime.

If you are interested in checking it out, the full link is here: https://poeeternal.com/about/

Photo by me, Iraq 2003
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Cold Winds + Mortars

After midnight poetry. Stuff in my head.

Block the cold winds blowing from the north
Frozen in time mistakes keep you from moving forth
Like the heavy winds from the north
You stop and weap
Holding down a crumbling fort
Eight days a week
You carry regret like a torch
Reminder: time is short

After midnight poetry. Stuff in my head.

Open quarters
Small circles
Blown mortars
Follow orders
Closed borders
Such horror

All blurs
No cures
Blood pours
More tours
Four doors
His wars


© Delia Ross. 2020



I love the wonderful feedback about my poetry, that’s why I’m now on Patreon which is an excellent platform for writers and artist. Can you help me reach my goal? www.patreon.com/poeeternal

Posted on by poeeternal · 3 Comments

Scars

The scars on my veins a reminder of pain
The courage just to continue each day
Cuz living with depression is living under chain
You may call me crazy but I’m rather quite sane

The days are heavy and I haven’t any strength
Every foot forward the deeper I sink
The treatments are barbaric and push me to the brink
Every other year I’ve got another kind of shrink

© Delia Ross. 2020

Sending some love hehe (in case you forgots)
Hi’s
I had therapy today and I don’t regret it.
My first ponytail since the 1600s. Some of my biggest mistakes were haircuts. And ponytails?

I love the wonderful feedback about my poetry, that’s why I’m now on Patreon which is an excellent platform for writers and artist. Can you help me reach my goal? www.patreon.com/poeeternal

Posted on by poeeternal · 6 Comments

Crater

I make decisions I know I’ll regret later
And I don’t know why I pop around, the truth is that I hate her
In disgust, I watch how her little minions all think that she’s greater
But she’s the equivalent of an asteroid making a crater
And what he sees in her requires a calculator
And a wallet, then add sex, she’s just around for labor
But then she removes her panties and she just isn’t my flavor
Maybe she thinks exposing herself is doing us a favor
Well, for him, I’m sorry, but it’s the only motivator…

© Delia Ross. 2020

SORRY NOT SORRY 👇👇👇

Warning, the following is a rant you best avoid but I needed to do it for my own fucking sanity… I only speak the truth. 👇

It’s not that I have anything against sex workers in particular, it’s just, I don’t like her, in particular. She’s gross, she lies, I can’t get the image of her vagina burned out of my mind, I know he sticks his dick in her (she’s cheap, AKA free), she emotionally blackmails him, and while he may put her in ropes, she’s the one that’s got him chained, she’s a pyramid scheme to her own fanbase which was built on lies, she pretends she’s a publishing company and acts like a cheap whore. It’s not hard to make your blog private if there is nudity, it’s kinda the fooking rules. But I guess she wants to help contribute to ruining our children in America with free porn yah!! (I’m sorry but close up shots of just your vagina is fucking porn). I hate her because she came to my blog spreading her fucking jealousy which led me to go check out her blogs and then I had to see her exposed vagina which I didn’t want to fucking see… And if I had paid to see that shit, I would have asked for a refund for real. But now she needs to pay for my fucking therapy to get her out of my head. I mean, why she assumes everyone wants to just come to her blog and see her fucking vagina up close!?! It wasn’t even like, neat. Like, I complain at people for posting pictures of their hands up close if they don’t even fucking have the decency to get a manicure beforehand or put lotion on… It was hard enough coming to terms with the fact that them two are in a thing together. I’m not jealous of her body trust me, I don’t think she’s worked out a day in her life. You could go fishing with how coarse her hair is and judging by the looks of it she probably does. I’m not jealous of her fake fanbase that she’s created by pulling her panties off and lying to them. It’ll be a long day in hell before she releases her hold on him, I wouldn’t put it past her that she blackmails him. I’d bet my soul right now that he’s trapped, it’s no wonder their time together is always turbulent. I don’t like her for many many reasons there are for not liking a person. She’s bad all around. There’s good people like me and then there’s deceitful people like her who try to make you believe that I’m the bad person… I don’t like her because she’s a hugely bad influence for the love of my life. I don’t like her because she pretends to be a nice person, but if she was really a nice person she would have followed my blog when she came to it originally leaving all the comments that she did, but she is as fake as they come, she did it out of spite and jealousy only, and hoping that I would go check out her blogs like I did and find out the stuff that I did and now I have to watch her be all friendly to all the other bloggers we follow… In the beginning I was even stupid enough to follow her blog but I didn’t understand why she came and left me all those comments but never followed my blog but later it all made sense and I figured it out… (obvious facts they both deny). She never had any intentions of following my blog because she was jealous of him writing poetry about me while he was fucking her. Sad truths. But we all run in the same circle, so I have to see all of them support each other but leave me out… cuz I’m the problem LOL LOL and more poetic rants likely to come because I need more therapy for how much I can’t fucking stand her…

I feel slightly better after the rant.

And even after all the horrible shit I have learned, I still love him… Why? Why does the why even matter anymore? Him and I are the modern Romeo and Juliet. I swear we are. He’s beautifully dark and I love him. I just can’t stand her… And I’ve already gone through my period of slashing him through my poetry, I completely crucified him for real. But he still carried my cross. And loved me. And I still love him. And I still have the hope of one day and she can’t fucking take that from us… or our poetry. 👍👍👍

(even if he convinces y’all that none of it is about me)… mirror please) 😇😇😇😇

Listen, I’m not the smartest girl on the block, but I’m also not the dumbest and I know what’s real and I know what’s not. I love him and he must really love me too because he’s never actually blocked me anywhere despite the fact that I have crucified him more than once but he must have known how much I was hurting because deep down I have a reason to be hurting because this shit is actually real it’s actually fucking real and happening in real time right fucking now and it’s NOT just imaginary in my head. And even if his words aren’t always for me they heal me the same. I love him and I know that I’m his favorite love. He has many girls who love him but none who love him as much as I do. My love was made for him. The thing is, I can need him and set him free because it is real love and it keeps coming back to me. And I wish I didn’t dislike her the way I do because then maybe it would make it easier for him and I to be friends and follow each other again, but that’s exactly what she doesn’t want. She needs control. She’s also very co-dependent on him. I’m not because it is true love. I probably could have liked her had she not been a deceitful jealous spiteful conniving bitch. So, I’m sorry my love, but I think you can do better still. xoxo

And to the bitch this is about, get in the sea already…

SORRY NOT SORRY

If you dig my writing, you can support my blog by subscribing to my Patreon here (please & thank you): https://www.patreon.com/poeeternal

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Posted on by poeeternal · 3 Comments

Real Life War Stories on Tuners Radio

Hi y’all. For the first time ever I’m starting to share War Stories on my Tuners radio channel and the thread got a reply from Alexander Ebert!!! This might be the first time I’ve ever heard a guy say they want to hear my poetry, and it’s coming from my muse, stop the fucking press! 🤓 I was actually worried that it would be boring and a waste of time to share war stories, and maybe not the right time even but then I got a response from Alex and his reply is just amazing! I’ll have to scramble up my war poems but now I’m inspired to write an even better one. Talking about war is not something I normally do, but I’m starting to open up and share more on my Tuners so be sure you follow and tune in! It’s free to listen and use (you can even use it anonymously). I hope you give it a listen!

Sharing war stories of OEF/OIF on Tuners Radio, listen free here

Direct link: https://tuners.io/tracks/14006

Direct link to the thread: https://tuners.io/tracks/14006

Direct link to Alex’s reply: https://tuners.io/tracks/14010

Some music by Alex I dig: https://youtu.be/DHEOF_rcND8

https://youtu.be/_62hfITLlU0

https://youtu.be/rgesBcZe5Y0

Alex is like one of the most incredible beings to walk planet Earth so his reply is, to me, a big deal. Hunt the good stuff. ✌️

Another goodie by Alexander: https://youtu.be/LUnXgucl748

Posted on by poeeternal · 1 Comment

Valor

It takes alot of strength to be a good person
It takes alot of steel to not make it worsen
It takes alot of fuel to keep the flames burnin’
It takes alot of prayer to never feel a burden

So you shed another skin and you’re mending up your heart
It’s been patched so many times that it keeps falling apart
Make it up the hill before his love can depart
Climbing all this time, I guess it wasn’t very smart

Lay down my rifle, lay down my pen
Take a breath, count to ten
I’ll give forgiveness just don’t ask when
I still search for peace though I’ve lost all my zen

It takes a lot of dark to appreciate the day
But when you make it through there’s no reason left to stay
What does the hero do when he’s only come to pray
What does the writer write when there’s nothing left to say

© Delia Ross. 2019

Posted on by poeeternal · 2 Comments

Our Life Is An Epic Poem

Our life is an epic poem
Like the Great Red Spot on Jupiter
Our pain is our greatest storm
And we burrow and we rise in perfect form

Struggles are ingredients to our lives
And we sprinkle bits of honey on the knives
And we reach such depths in our dives
But this is how all life thrives

In our toolkit we have so much courage
We eat our sadness like it is porridge
We peer into darkness where we flourish
And our will becomes an endless forage

© Delia Ross. 2019

Alex Ebert inspires me so much, in every possible way. His pep talk on Tuners radio hit a core. I am grateful for him. For being able to learn and grow and not be stagnant in my woe. But to flourish and thrive. You cannot have light without the dark. And so I see my darkness in a new light. And so I take these waves to greater heights, as I settle in the cold black night. Everything’s gonna be alright. Just gotta get through the bite. Then sight. If you struggle with depression or suicidal thoughts and ideation, you really should go listen to his pep talk, it’s under 2 minutes but maybe the greatest lesson of my life. Listen for free (no download needed): https://tuners.io/tracks/13446

I also dropped this poem as a spoken word reply under his thread “You Are Courageous” under Alex’s Tuners Radio account, if you wanna have a listen: https://tuners.io/tracks/13492

Posted on by poeeternal · 2 Comments

My Sunday, how’s yours going?

I woke up to my Sunday morning with my ride having been damaged by a heinous, criminal act. I do not have the money to repair it. IF ANYONE CAN HELP, PLEASE HELP. DEPRESSION AWARENESS! SUICIDE AWARENESS. I CAN’T TAKE MUCH MORE. If anyone is capable or caring enough to help, please, I’m at the end of my rope.

Broken window, shattered soul, this is hell, don’t you know
Sunday blues *sigh*
Nothing stolen, strictly spite
$275 in repair costs I do not have and cannot drive until it is fixed.

Posted on by poeeternal · 2 Comments

Lu Part 999 (We dream backwards)

I’ve been looking forward to your arrival
He sat me next to a satanic bible
I am your favorite disciple
In fact, I would say you are my idol
Without any denial
(Lu creeped down my spinal)

The number of the beast is triple nine
I tried to cleanse you but you missed the deadline
I tried to warn you with written rhyme
The devil knows I’m out of time
He also knows I am divine
And in my presence he built a shrine

The feeling mutual, no
Obsession yes, go
Drop the curtain, end the show
My mind is broke from feeling low
Is there any other my soul can bestow
It is looking as if the devil is my only beau

Why am I even here?
I think about him and you appear
Please can you disappear
You turned the world over to fear
And it’s not enough you need me too, dear
Well come a little closer, I’ll insert the spear

This is why I love you, Lu replied
And love is where the conversation died
This is where my step took a longer stride
I swear the devil sat down and cried
My wings expand, I left with pride
The devil will never be by my side

© Delia Ross. 2019

Fighting personal demons currently and it feels good to vent via rhyme. Therapeutic. Yes. With that said, we dream backwards, and the number of the beast arrived via dream, so why do we promote it as 666 still? Why am I the ONLY ONE who can see things as they really are? This shite keeps me up at night…

Unrequited love sucks tho. I am never loving again… Just don’t use the word love around dudes ever, fair warning.

Also, has anyone ever read Anton LaVey’s book, “The Satanic Bible”? Because I did once at age 16, it was quite interesting in fact, and a lot of it explained the difference between human nature and evil. Worth a read. Ahhh there you go, judging a book by its cover… reading something doesn’t turn you evil, your actions do.

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Viking

Growing taller as I grow with fear
Shouting louder, before I disappear
He’s like lightning striking where I stand
He’s a viking with an iron hand

Defending hollow ground with all his might
Filled with lust and left without sight
Love is his sword, he’ll insert the blade
Deep is the longing but there can be no aid

He’ll tell you a story while he watches you bleed
He’ll lick your wound like it is a seed
But give him more to ease his shake
He’s growing strong while more of them break

Needs they are a plenty
Goes for girls that cost a penny
Ghosts roam his oasis
Masks are his only faces

© Delia Ross. 2019

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Eastbound

Silence on the battleground
Blood on my sword
Sorrow now eastbound
Forgiveness I’m not marching toward

The sky is red
My heart is black
The love is dead
I’m not coming back

Tie my boots tighter
Brush off the pain
I am a fighter
Death is my reign

Casualties on the field
Integrity is my alibi
Your end is where I healed
So this is where you die

© Delia Ross. 2019 

Posted on by poeeternal · 4 Comments

Hello Farewell

Fairytale or nightmare
Heaven or hell
Common man or devil
This time I can’t tell

Leisure or battle
Sickly not well
Poison or apple
To leave or to dwell

Whole or a sample
Free or for sale
Space or a shackle
Real or a spell

So many I tackle
His shit I can smell
Tongues full of babble
Be quiet or yell

Fist or a grapple
Satin or shell
To flee or to straddle
Correct or misspell

Stand still now or paddle
The boat took a swell
Clear thoughts or to channel
Hello or farewell

© Delia Ross. 2019

Dropped spoken word of this on my Tuners account 👍

If you like my writing, please consider subscribing to my new Patreon here (please & thank you): https://www.patreon.com/poeeternal

Keep up with me on Instagram here: https://www.instagram.com/poeeternal/

I follow back on Twitter and you can follow me here: https://www.twitter.com/poeeternal

Listen to me free on my radio channel at Tuners Radiohere: https://tuners.io/users/POEETERNAL

Posted on by poeeternal · 2 Comments

Wrath

“I do terribly bad things”, she said with a saddened sorrow
“Spontaneous combustion”, Lu replied
She was gazing in her mirror, Lu was just behind
Leaning on her shoulder, like he was her beau

He goes places with her no other will go
He knows too many things he shouldn’t know
A mask to Lu is an open window
The thicker they get, the more that you owe

“My tongue is full of sin” she said
As she took a blade, her eyes were blood red
The cold steel on her neck, her gaze still ahead
With careful, quick precision, Lu swiped the blade from her hand, he was never much of a figurehead

“Terribly bad things”, as she crashed to the floor
A creature of the underworld, and she could take no more
Too many souls abandoned, what is she fighting for
If only love could be her savior

“Hey kid, they only fear your purity because they sin,
They act tough where their skin is thin,
They create chaos in an endless cycle they spin,
They search for winnings, where the devil will always win”

With a hand that swung with the thunder of Thor
With a face of refusal and ready for war
With her hand on the trigger and ready to score
Standing an inch from the devil she let out a roar

© Delia Ross. 2019

Do you ever feel like the devil is on your shoulder? That was sort of the goal for the bathroom mirror scene. Now’s he’s been all through the house. Time to see a priest, deep, dark thoughts abide. Maybe an exorcist too. Definitely could use spiritual cleansing from a psychic.

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A Visit From Lu Part 7

So there it was, Lu and I
Outstretched his hand an ally
There sat a truce within his eye
Another devil here to apologize

Once you’ve heard one lie you’ve heard them all
You can change the ending but you cannot stop the fall
You can change your perceptions but you’re still behind a wall
The only lies worth spinning are the ones you can’t recall

Lu has been there for me since the day that I was born
When my parents would beat me and my wings could not take form
As if it was his duty to sit with me and mourn
So deep down in the darkness that his feet would come to warn

There are some places angels aren’t meant to be
And it was during my lowest times Lu would come remind me
And it is always a fine line between heaven and hell I am walking
And there’s not a detail overlooked when the devil is talking

But the dark has come again and now Lu has arrived
But these really are his tunnels where we all reside
And even in this darkness my purity has thrived
I wonder if his prayers are the reason I survived

The words hello and goodbye never slip from my tongue
The sorrow feels deeper and long it was hung
The worry will linger where heart took a stung
And with very few words the devil just took a swung…

To be continued!?!

© Delia Ross. 2019

Oh my goodness y’all, Lu has been protecting her all of her life until now!?! What did he say to her? Why has he hurt her!?!

I’ve never tried writing like this before, my epic tragedy was written in one night after it came to me in a dream. I had an idea for a story (this one) and wanted to see if I could write a longer piece but I wanted it to be without rules and regulations and I wanted it to feel experimental. I haven’t written any rough drafts or used any of the prewriting techniques we were taught in school. I knew the basis for the story and I wanted it to feel open-world. I dig open world video games (I’m a huge gamer and I’ve been playing games since I was a little girl and it’s one reason I want to play Survivor CBS cuz game play matters and that’s the best game on fucking Earth and I’m getting ready to audition for a fourth time and the first rule of Survivor is never give up). Anyhoo. This has been a huge challenge for me and I can’t believe I’m already into part 7. Sometimes I just want to quit writing cuz I’m nowhere good as the people who admire me the most, even my best isn’t comparable. But I try so hard… in pretty much every aspect of my life. To fail over and over again. But that’s life, failing and getting back up again to fail again. *sigh*

Posted on by poeeternal

Prozac

I told the doctor I don’t want to be issued Prozac
He guarantees, it’ll help the things, my future lack
I told the pharmacist, I had things I needed to get off my back
And with a smile, or a devil’s grin, I reached and took my sack

I told my friends, I’m sleeping well, though an insomniac
I tell them still, I’m up the hill, but I can’t relax
I take a knee, and pray to God, that was the climax
Both depression and anxiety yelling back at me to face the facts

© Delia Ross. 2019

Sidenote: I don’t really take Prozac but I could throw at you a slew of other prescriptions. Though I’m advocating for medical mary to be written for vets…because truthfully, it’s the ONE thing that works (and I feel less like ripping someone’s head off). If vets had access to medicinal mary, there’d be less suicides because big Pharma actually does make you more suicidal and so the propaganda and fear-mongering against that plant needs to stop *pops pill*

Posted on by poeeternal · 1 Comment

Dirt

Got his hand on my throat with every word
Got his squeeze on my pump with every hurt
Got his eye on the prize if ever I’m sure
And with the right ingredients just maybe a cure

Got his hand on the ready to offer comfort
Got my mind on the question though maybe he answered
She’s got her nose in the air as if she’s the expert
And she cries for his heart like a rich man now beggared

Got his tongue on the bottle so maybe it slurred
And my outrage is written though normally censored
But he claims that he loves me and I’m certain she heard
And so I do my best to not blind her with dirt

© Delia Ross. 2019

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Chess

He moves me around like pieces of a chess board
A game he fully intends to win
He uses me like a pawn in a game of life
And he knows I will never quit

With his pen and with his will he continues to record
Every single squinch I make because he likes it when I sin
And deeper in he puts the knife
For I can never match his wit

For months his darkness I explored
I still feel him deep within
Many times I dropped the strife
And he still would not submit

I turn to rage when I’m ignored
Do you think it makes him grin?
I ask him not to be his wife
Just a friend I can commit

© Delia Ross. 2019

Make love, not war ✌
Posted on by poeeternal · 2 Comments

I’m So Scared

I’m so scared for that little girl
Who grew up abused in a broken world
By men who only ever used

Who never taught her love
Or how to be well
No one will care
Unless to get rid of

That little girl now five foot six
It matters not if love exists
For it has never reached her lips
Love serves only as a crucifix

Oh how I cry for her!
To her family a stranger
To the world a number
To death an anchor

I cannot save her though I tried
I must now stop being her guide
For I only seem to make her cry
And make her pain multiply

Oh how I hold her tight!
And squeeze with all my might
Her eyes blind from sight
Her body coiled from fright

She is a desperate, fragile thing
The gentleness of a morning spring
A seed in the dark in need of blooming
She is the breath of an angel singing

Oh how I know her aches!
I know her dreams and her mistakes
I know where her branches break
I know the thunder her cries make

Tiny frail hands always with blessings
Teaching others love was always the lessons
Helping others was always the message
But now it’s time to end the sessions

© Delia Ross. 2019