
dream of the day I can stomp/
Frank’s* face and crush him.
*Ed
(“Frank” is the name of my daughter’s eating disorder. Others might call him “Ed” — as in: “Eating Disorder” )
Hell hath no fury/
Like a woman scorned,/
And life knows no pain/
Like a poet ignored.
Thou who hast stomped and/
crushed my heart, when hold we our/
next business meeting?
Where others may see/
anger, I see tenderness/
and open caution.
She has a dream that’s/
been crushed. Maybe that wasn’t/
the dream she needed.
OR
We all have dreams which/
get crushed. Maybe they are not/
the dreams we’re needing.
When she bowed her head/
to cry like others had, I/
thought I had hurt her.
I would weave you a/
poem; a word blanket that would/
hold you safe and warm.