Too Bad

Too Bad

Too bad you did not know me
Before I became my illness
Before you saw how hard I work
Or how I raised three children with love and grace
Or that I am loved by my Lord

Too bad you never knew the “me” my family and friends knew and loved

Vickie Skowronski
~Copyright 2006

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Forbidden Mention

Forbidden Mention What causes your family to bury the past? To hide from the truth, don’t want it to last Is it better to bury the problems of old? I found out its lies I have always been told. I wondered what the whispering was all about It sent chills up my spine~ I wanted to shout Curiosity left me uneasy and scared I knew there was something that should have been shared. Now turn the clock forward, this mess I must fix The damage is done; I am scarred by the mix The secrets are buried so deep in the ground Is there hope that my history can someday be unbound? I was raised in a family so bound by abuse There were such evil things that were unspoken, obtuse We lived in a dungeon without any key As children we just had no option to flee. The secrets were buried, or so they did think I vow to disclose all these stories in ink These demons, they need to be torn from my life No more generations will carry this strife. If your life has been stable, with love and support Don’t pretend that
Read more

Oh, Gentle Heart

Oh, Gentle Heart When I looked into your eyes That Monday back in May I saw the stars that light your soul That very special day. I saw each chance as special Each chance you took me to That place where I could be myself And feel so peaceful next to you. As days passed by my heart would flutter At the thought I’d see your face I longed to see those stars again To journey to that place. Your gentle nature touched my heart It left me wanting more To open up your soul to me Was something to adore. I consider myself so lucky That you’ve touched my heart so deep I will treasure you in the palm of my hand Even when I sleep! Vickie Skowronski ~Copyright 1998
Read more

The Crow

The raw, repetative screech following me every morning........... To a place that I could hide and laugh where young men mimicked the raw, repetative screech following me ~v
Read more