The picture book is wearing your story
about the living of your life,
It was a story in need of fixing,
For behind the smiles there was strife,
People can be strong and resilient,
For that’s how we all want them to be,
But if we paint with all pastel colors,
The darkness we are failing to see.
Behind smiles lies a core of sadness,
that cannot be reached, felt or seen,
And a heart longing to be filled,
With tomorrow’s promise of a dream.
Stuck in a viscous circle
by the oppressor…hell’s addiction,
There is always one more rabbit hole
to add to the affliction.
One more tragic scenario
spinning everything out of control,
One last reach upward,
Then one last trip down the hole.
If only you had been just a flower,
You could have sprouted again in new soil,
Grown back stronger, bloomed more beautiful,
Than you’d ever been before.
But we’re people, we don’t get to do that
so the picture book suddenly stopped,
Addiction’s Affliction had won his game,
From this world you were suddenly dropped.
© 2013 DiAnne Ebejer