The Plagued Parent

posts about surviving our children, the Baby Boomers who raised us, and everyone else with an opinion...


Today’s Poem of the Day prompt was to write a damage poem.

Boxes brimmed heavy with belongings
their top flaps tucked and untaped.
Trash bags stuffed with sharp
and pointed objects such as picture frames.
Dreams and expectations carried for years
callously dropped lay spidered and cracked.
Saddened eyes of a meowing cat wander lost
in a vacated bedroom cold and dusted.
Erie quite of an empty chair, a book unread,
boots unworn and their silent heels.
The dog’s barking goes unheeded,
his whines remain unfed.
Many things fall apart
when a child runs away.
Anything but a gentle decline
of a speeding plane brought
in to land skidding.
No this crash is abrupt, unexpected
as most crashes are.
And at the site we toil daily
with brooms
sweeping up
ceaseless debris
flaking from our
fractured souls.

Updated: April 13, 2015 — 8:26 pm


  1. So sorry you have to experience this pain.


      But at least from this we can rebuild. Thank you for reading and commenting.


      Glad you liked it. Thanks Darla.

  2. This just got me right in the heart. Typing through tears.


      I am sorry for making you cry, but happy that you continue to read and follow us. Thanks Jen.

  3. Oh my, this is so moving, my heart breaks for you both.

    Incredibly well written, sad, but beautiful, so full of love.


      Thank you so much Kimmie, we appreciate your continued support!


      Thank you so much!

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