Saturday, June 13, 2009

The Clock Ticks On
The clock ticks on
While my soul bleeds slowly
And the aching of my empty arms
Cries softly, like a child in the night
I examine the hole in my Self
That remains where once a baby smiled at me amidst diapers and worries
And long sleepless nights
That then were spent in caring
But now are spent in silent dry tears
As the clock ticks on
© 2000 by Kathleen P. Leach.

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