Shadows
‘When you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives.’
By Lauren Eden
Sadness
moodiness
and melancholy
gobbled me up like termites
when rude fate snatched away my mother.
Father, like a wing-clipped bird, fell dead almost.
Who will care for me, a little chick, amidst tempests?
Love! Love!
The strange thing
caused a strange feeling
of, as though lonely and lost.
I searched everywhere to find myself.
Did I thrive in my long, struggle-filled efforts?
Torments weighed down my heart often and drowned me down. Deep!
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