Poetry is something I always enjoyed; I remember being inspired to write initially when my ten-year-old sister, Kate, happened to be sick. I was but five-years-old:
Kate is ill. She has to take a pill.Yep that's it! Mum still has the scrap bit of paper somewhere, with it's chewed end pencil lead words all smudged and sliding up the page - as only a left-handed child learning to write can manage to produce.
I want to take this chance to introduce tomorrow's #Prose4Thought on the GraceFaith blog. It is different to anything else I've ever posted; it's about death.
Think euthanasia. Think suicide. Think of the darkest possible place - if you can. And then, when you get there, think of those that have to go to that very place in their heads, each and every single minute of every day. The next poem is an ode to them.
#Prose4Thought
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