Our children are the breath
                    that continues after us.
So we must show them
                                that every breath is precious.

That every moment is a continuation
                                         of those before us,
Even though we breath,
we must remember the words exhaled before us.

Why can’t I write?
Like I once did before,
Tragedy and remedy.
Wrapped up simply yet in a hoard,
What bounding breaks of wording.
Make truth simply desired not abhorred,
When words of life are ever fleeting.
A desire of wanting the same but more.

here you go,
take a sip of your words,
chew them with patience,
swallow them,
and now tell me,
how do they taste,
bitter?
rotten?
obliterating?
heartbreaking?
salute me,
i have been swallowing them for such a long time