Slamming The Door On My Hand
Our family loved Bingo…
Dad drove us to the door.
Not thinking about what I was doing,
Lost in my own thoughts, as a young adult.
My thoughts started brewing.
I really don’t’ want to be here to play Bingo…
It’s no fun when you can’t win.
Stepping out of the car on a whim.
I’m lost in my thoughts when does this all begin.
Everyone gets out of the car to go.
We start in the direction of the door…
I’m the last one to get out of the backseat of the car.
Not noticing my hand and how it is clutching to grip the inside to hold on.
Before I realize it the door slams shut,
Right on my knuckles, then with a loud shout.
Dad realizes what took place before we go in for Bingo…
He checks out my fingers, one by one.
Feeling comforted by Dad’s soft spoken words,
The pain goes numb on my fingers.
Oh, how the feeling of my fingers tingle.
After all is said and done…
We walk in to play some Bingo.
When we’re young, we don’t realize how blessed we really are,
And what our bodies can take in our mishaps or what we can endure.
Even when, Slamming The Door On My Hand, with a car door.
May 2, 2014
Copyright © Christian Poetess | Year Posted 2014
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