My TMA01

Twelve Hours

The window reflects, strange distorted face

The image through the glass, cold, and dark

The pond, once beautiful, now an evil place

The landscape barren and stark

He turns, she still sits there

The photos and memories scattered before

Absentmindedly wipes away a lock of hair

And waits for the knock on the door

The man enters and looks down

He is sorry to disturb at this tragic time

And when he looks at me all he sees is a frown

And from the mantel clock there rings a chime

Just a few questions is all he says

And I turn and look out of the window once more

Yesterday was one of my darkest days

A day that rocked me to my core

She answers with a yes or a no

Doesn’t really know what is being said

And I turn and I shout at the top of my voice

‘For god’s sake sergeant our daughter is dead’

He sees the tears and looks embarrassed at the floor

And she still can’t look at me, not the way she used to

And he talks again for a few minutes more

Apologises and leaves, alone again are we two

Though I want to reach out and tell her it’s ok

I know in my heart that we each blame each other

We both want to talk, though have nothing to say

Then the phone rings again, this time it’s her mother

The tears start again and I feel hollow inside

I wonder what more I could have done

And I feel angry at myself for I still haven’t cried

And I turn and stare back into the sun

I feel like a man who has just lost his soul

And I know this feeling won’t ever go away

I should be the man, and just take control

but I can’t, I am not the man, not today

I can still feel her body as I lifted her out

The lights flashing behind me eyes

And in the darkness beyond I could hear shouts

And a series of pain laden cries

The kiss that I gave her to say one last farewell

The squeeze of her hand, simple thing

And I swear I could hear the last toll of a bell

As if the end of my life it did bring

Now I stand here alone, nothing inside

And she sits there and stares right through me

It’s been only twelve hours since our little girl died

Was it fate, our neglect, or a tragedy?

©Sonofdel 2011

I wrote this only a couple of weeks ago.  This was my original draft for my first exam on my OU course. I had to take an incident and make it into a poem.  It had to have impact and tell a story.  I got an 83 mark for this (although the final version had to be cut to 36 lines maximum)