As if you had a choice

Poetry

Photo by Sapan Patel on Unsplash

When sadnesses besiege me
And I’ve forgotten how to think
The words I once learnt by rote
Return, to release me from the brink
Of black despair. The Lord’s Prayer.
Not an ‘I’ in any version you’ll see,
To cause my heavy-hearted pulse
To slow. But as I free my throat
From the buried strangled cry:
‘Why me Lord? Why must I die?’
I slip into awareness, 05:19 again.
My cheeks are wet, my eyes sting
I see flickers rising from the east
Bread and oil must be my feast.