Waifs and Strays

A nation in flux Failed by its protector Freedom fighters Facilitated by the free world There’s always a price Waifs and Strays Walk the streets Visiting friends In pieces They drop bombs We drop like flies Swatted from your mind A noxious atmosphere We can’t cry

Bereavement: six months or one hundred and eighty-two days later

Today marks six months since my mother passed away from cancer. A thick fog is only now lifting. Both my physical and mental health have suffered. But I’ve found solace in writing and this has been a cathartic exercise. Today is the culmination of a journey years in the making and one where I’ve yet… Continue reading Bereavement: six months or one hundred and eighty-two days later