Unsaid (A Mother’s Sonnet)

Think of him as a child, the time wasted
As he flipped between chocolate and vanilla,
Sauce and flake or neither. Now it’s tube, blade
Paracetamol or ligature.

He’d haemorrhage beyond recovery
With luck, while waiting for an ambulance
Though more probably, he’d scrape to A&E
And spit gratitude at the consultant.

You care too much to watch him gather dust
In psychiatric corridors. The damage
Done at the precipice must be addressed:
Lead him gently to, but leave him at, the bridge

Above the Archway Road, or let him down
Peacefully on the Northern Line Southbound.

Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s