sometimes a rage rises
old and angry
from an inner tomb
unrequited
it bangs on the door
of my head
aching
to explode
its blast of hurt
denied
terrified - I clamp my teeth
resist the grief
and walk away
tired from the battle
to hold back
& stem this inner lava flow
I'll raise a cairn
of pure white stone
and deeply engrave it with
my finger's bone
Here lies the loss
of my sons
innocence
Taken by wealthy man
respected, well known
in the local land
Jail not enough
to quench this hot fermenting
stuff
I'll lay before it
white lillies of perfume strong
and bow my head
and write this poem
till all is emptied
out
enough
wet tears
a mothers worst fears
quench this inner glow
