You Stopped

A poem about a real situation that scare the @#$%! out of me.

 

You stopped aiming

at long life

once your heart hinted

at other outcomes.

At forty-eight you knew

your uncles had not

fared well, and you,

never arrogant,

did not plan more.

 

Your hopes narrowed –

a cared for wife,

sons married well,

grandkids who stayed close;

recalling your youth’s

Brooklyn landmarks,

abundant cousins,

food, love, family.

 

                                     

 

As your path’s end looms,

pain a swelling crescendo,

poking cracks in

dykes of medicine,

and your strength leaks out

silent as 3 A.M.

you guess what road

you travel, but you

won’t speak it, not yet.

 

David P. Eckert

Reviews

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Hm one can question what this is about. I take it as a woman who seemed happy on the outside because it seemed she had everything, yet inside was nothing but pain, and she just tried to hide it by popping pills and what not. I get a hint of suicide in it as well. Meh, am I correct?

Nice powerful piece btw.