(18 January 1982 - / Pretoria, South Africa)

Closing Door And The Distance To Pain

We chattered for hours in hope and glee
Friends sharing novel beginnings as the night passed free
I don’t know now the words to come next…
My pen stops, as I wonder how things progressed

The door was open for a few days dear
Sounds beautiful flowed as new hearts drew near
Landscapes unguarded they were with waters lush
Dried down now to the sounds of a dreaded hush

A creaking door slowly started to move shut
More and more closer it slipped to a wall and a room of solitude
Outside now I sit in a small wooden hut
I pray for relief from this drought and the lifting of a hood

A distance exists between a two
A space between the points of relation
And dire isolation
A measure of distance or time and hurt between me and you

May we force open this closing door
And dismiss the distance to pain to a faraway shore


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Comments (1)

You nimbly massage each thought. You freely evoke, yet equivocate each emotion. You carefully measure the worth of each word. Life is encased in hard edged stuff but I seek a soft center to survive. You're a handsome lad.