Wednesday, October 31, 2012

A Stone Unturned


Her life came
Her death came
 
Her thoughts
Her dreams
Her words
Her deeds
Lie unwritten
Unrecorded
Unrecalled
 
Her face
Smiles only
In the memory
Of a mirror
On a wall
In a hallway
Irretrievable
 
She was a stone
Unturned

3 comments:

Pam Beers. said...

Sounds like your Mom, Randy.

Randy Johnson said...

Thanks for reading and commenting Pam. Mom’s life was much too short, but as she told me before it ended, it was a good life, and she got to make her mark on the world. This poem is instead for a girl who didn't have a chance at that "good life" ... A girl whose face does not live on in faded photographs, whose words are not remembered, whose needs were not taken care of, and whose potential was never realized.

Pam Beers. said...

That girl is the kind of person we see on the psychiatrist's sofa in our office. A throw-away kid.