Poetic thoughts of a Soul lost in Deep Despair, seeking an unlikely way out of his misery.
"A Season of Rebirth, Unborn"
by John S. Gebbia, III
Word Count: 268
'Tis April Showers that they say, will lead us to the flowers of May,
But I must ask how this they mean, for all the pain that I have seen,
My Mother's birthday came and went, although to Heaven she was sent,
And in this month my father died, and thus, in silence, I have cried,
And he who is my second one, and loved me like a second son,
With dementia, struggles now, and even though I don't know how,
I'm told he has forgot my name, and ne'er will ever be the same;
And my true love hath broke my heart, and sworn we'll ever be apart.
And thus with pain my life is fraught, and all my feelings felt for naught,
And now the pain I feel runs deep, and daily I'm compelled to weep.
And I sleep not, nor do I eat, thus full-fatigued, and fully beat,
I'd known love like I'd never known, but now I sit at home, alone,
And now the pains of my love, lost have filled my soul, at such a cost,
For now what's left of my past life is filled with torment and with strife,
And so each drop of April rain, falls like the tears of my own pain,
And so in rhyme, I do rehearse, these words that I express in verse,
For I can't wait until that day, when fin'ly comes the month of May.