A Poem Dragged into Orbit

This was inspired by some of the issues in last week’s post. It has nothing to do with the people involved and is not intended as a comment on individuals but as a creative response to the scenario described.

Dragged into Orbit

1. A Son’s Story

My looks went.
That was fine: people ignored me.
That’s how I wanted it.
Being popular’s pressure.
Couldn’t do it without a drink or a toke.
Pot became skunk,
ecstasy, heroin.
I died between fixes.
No one cared who I was
or what I did, I felt free.
I could move
in my invisible cloak
but no one cared
and I stopped caring.
People tell you to stop,
but I couldn’t face that.
My cloak turned black
with self-loathing.
I pray to end this life
that is no-life.

2. A Mother’s Story

I fret. I nag and I know I’m nagging,
but he shouldn’t be lying in bed.
He should be working,
dating, settling down, happy.

My blue-eyed boy.
Where are you now?

In this morose stranger
that’s replaced my son,
that’s somehow still my son?

He’s turned in on himself,
can’t see his mother’s love.
Can’t break from the centripetal force
that drags him to orbit himself.

I pray for reunion,
but it won’t come in this life.

By

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No Responses Yet to “A Poem Dragged into Orbit”

  1. Samantha Says:

    Oh how sweet the poem I will share it with my friends.


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