Macular
Feb 26, 2008 - Shawn Smith

The rain, it falls upon my cheek
As I ponder over my youth
When on cloudless days
I romped about in joyful play.

My laughter has turned into sobbing.
Seasons in the sun,
A sun I will see no more,
Is now a fading memory.

From whence this darkness?
Cannot someone please turn on the lights?!
Oh Mother, where are you now?
I am afraid, I need you.

Can you not see that I'm dismayed?
As nightfall comes I drift off to sleep to ease the pain,
But awaken with grief
To face another day of sunlit darkness.

I hope, I hope, I ever hope,
Yet the light fades into a steady progression of obscurity.
I stumble in the blackness before me,
Searching, grasping, longing for someone to please turn on the lights.

ottawa1810@yahoo.ca