Tag Archives: dying

My Daughter’s Daring Gift: Revolutionary Blogging Sonnet

My darling, dying daughter is daring.
Willing to explore her feelings,
able to express her caring
through the pain and suffering she’s revealing.

Though she fears loathing and ridicule,
she loves unseen others more.
By exposing her personal fire’s fuel,
she’s guiding sufferers to a hopeful shore.

Today someone who she’s never met
was lead to read her writings.
As my daughter exposed experiences we’d rather forget
she gave another hope to keep on fighting.

Sometimes a greater love for another just means
we don’t have to die; we just have to be seen.

Written after my daughter wrote in her blog Milla the Night Baker
and someone responded at 5:06 a.m. on October 8th, 2012 saying how her writing was helping.

Saving My Daughter’s Life (Please): Revolutionary ImproVerse Free Verse Poetry

I understand that you have a full-time job.
I understand that there are 20 pages of paperwork
that have to be filled out.
I understand that the person who has to finally review that paperwork
here in this state won’t be home for two or three days from vacation.
I understand that when the application does get reviewed
it will get need to go to other reviews somewhere else.
I understand that you have other people to talk to
about things that are important to them.
I understand that you have other things to worry about.

But while you’re working
and talking to other people
and your boss is vacationing
and other people are waiting to review the paperwork
that seems to drag on and on and on,
my daughter is dying.

I understand there seems to be nothing I can do
to make you hurry up.

So please understand excuse me if I get a little upset.

Because I don’t understand how vacations,
and work,
and paperwork,
and talking to other people
can get in the way
of saving my daughter’s life.

Watching, Helpless, My Daughter Die: Revolutionary Improv Sonnet Lament

I’m watching my daughter die.
She’s starving her body to death.
Why can’t I even cry?
Why can’t I barely draw a breath?

What brought her to this bleak abyss?
Does it really matter?
All I know is that she’d be missed;
My world would be much sadder.

So I’m putting aside my selfish ways,
my lack of focus and my pride.
I will spend my talents and days
in efforts to fix her dying insides.

Was I responsible for her ills? I now don’t care.
But I know I’ll be at fault if I just leave them there.