Dynamite

Can I forgive you….no, and even if I did

You wouldn’t thank me for it

You, being in total denial

I see straight through your smart exterior

To the rat you are inside

And you’d never pardon me for telling you

So I silence my voice and bind my hands

So that I cannot write a letter to you

You took a stick of dynamite and threw it

Into the centre of my childhood

And blasted it to tiny pieces

Yet I yearn to love and I cannot cure myself

Of the love I had for you for what I thought

You were before I knew you

Author: Ellie Thompson

Writing my memoirs, musings, a little fiction and a lot of poetry as a way of exploring and making the most of my life ... ... Having had a break from writing my blog for more than three years, I decided to return to write my memoirs, some day-to-day observations, views and feelings. My passion is non-fiction poetry. I have a disability and use an electric powerchair called Alfie and let nothing get in the way of living life to the full. I believe that you can never do a kindness too soon and should give credit where credit is due. A smile or a kind word could make the difference between a good or bad day for a person - we never know what's going on for another soul. Those little things, perhaps, practised daily like a mantra, could mean so much to someone else. Thank you for visiting my blog and reading a little more about me. Please, make yourself at home here. You are very welcome. Ellie x 😊 View all posts by Ellie Thompson