you killed "meself" dead,
sure dead,
dead as me own loving hand
untangled
while passing
over the long grey slope
of the hill
ye' crossed the sea
with a whisper
of mummy's breath
in ye' soul-
wrapped well
in death
and around ye'
the many jewels
of good fortune
and a new woman
to mourn ye' dead
"meself", in me tiny rectangle
covered in the dirt
of me life
and the children
ye' left behind
that "meself" toiled
and raised
many miles away
in hatred of "meself"
because there
was only "meself"
neither ye' nor themselfs'
know "meself" dead,
sure dead
Author notes
dead. by kevin o'connor/ui'connabhair
What did you think
Comments
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well this was a treat to read this early Saturday morning. thanks for something different! hope you have a great weekend!-Sarahlynn
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Nice write, I like the creative twist of slang terminology used in this write. Nice job
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