Whirlpool of Sorrow

Pulls the trigger… Bang…Bang…Bang… Blood and nothing else… Screams, shouts, horns Rain, wet, soaked Ringing bell, Cheerful faces full of hope Colorful clothes, bags, umbrellas A worried look, anxious to get home A cloaked figure With malicious gaze At the passersby Crawls into darkness A ringing sound… No movement, no answers… Answer machine mourns Over the sad message A shaken figure, With torn clothes Holding the last drops of money In her clumsy hands Falls into a drunk pit Calls out for her son Knocks on the door… No movement, no answers… A piece of paper Words shrouded in sorrow Waiting to be read… Cloaked figure reaching into his pockets For the little pink and blue boxes Tears the ribbon… “Oh … a silver ring” “Oh… a teddy bear” The bear soon finds itself Lying on a pile of trash The ring glowing in a shop window The worried face reaching the doorstep Afraid to knock To enter To call his mother… A note awaits him To take him deeper into Whirlpool of disillusionment The shaken figure has managed to get up Fumbles in the darkness of water For her dropped coins The cloaked figure is at home now Stretching its evil feet on the sofa In his cozy house there is fire Dancing flames of warmth Ensuring him of his happiness The worried face is now drenched Not with the rain but watery lavas Of his volcanic eyes The shaken figure is on her way To her home Where her son may be waiting For bread and butter Their royal food! The worried face hears Knocks on the door Rushes to see his mom “How should I tell her?” The shaken figure comes home Only to see her son with A mourning look No need to ask No need to say Sorrow has devoured The only possession left to cherish Family…