Pagosa Springs Artists

Her Depression

for Janice

 

I question, Where are you, Lord?
Where is the evidence of your caring?
Day after overwhelming day, I arise
at five,  go to the job I must keep
to make ends meet.  Every day
I come back home to a household
I no longer control. There’s
no joy, no hope to go on sharing
either the cleaning or decision-making.

More than the kids, my man runs wild.
My soul feels defiled.  No one
has bothered  to look, to see
I haven’t even the energy
to cook. What will become
of us?  Lord, do you still care?
Are you even there, Lord?

 

 

 

first published in BEHIND PRISON WALLS Chapbook

©2011 Bonnie Manion

   

Poem of the Month

  • October - 2019
  • "Rich"