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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Friday, April 15, 2011

Elegy for a Childhood

image source
It was the thirteenth of September
1981
I gave you what you wanted
Afraid that you would run
I lost more than my innocence
I lost my sense of trust
That bad things just don't happen
To good little kids like us.

I watched the days creep by
On my calendar on the wall
I watch the summer sun
Become the winds of fall
I hated you for what you did
And I hated God for fate
I prayed each morning on the bathroom scale
Then see if I'd gained weight.

It was the thirteenth of November
Two months to the day
I walked in to the clinic
The price I had to pay
To pay for our stupidity
With my shame, my fear, my blood
In two hours I walked out the door
You were relieved
I wasn't pregnant anymore.

If we'd known what we would create
If we'd known what we would destroy
If we'd known how our lives would change that day
Would it have made a difference anyway?


Aside from minor editing, this poem was written in 1990 and has been hibernating in a folder since then. I decided it was ready to come out today.

submitted for Thursday Think Tank at Poets United