My Darkest Days

5 Comments

My Darkest Days

My two darling daughters, born out of love,
A true gift from heaven, from God up above,
Who would have thought, these two precious babes,
Would someday help me survive, My Darkest Days

Running from pain, I could not escape,
My heart was a void, my soul was an ache,
Killing myself, in so many ways,
And so the beginning of, My Darkest Days

Hating my life, escape was my drink,
Numbing the pain, not wanting to think,
Not knowing the cost, what I'd have to pay,
There was no escaping, My Darkest Days

Sitting alone, in a small prison cell,
Seething self-loathing, my own private hell,
Contemplating my fate, I kneel and I pray,
Lord bring me some light on, My Darkest Days

Then one day a miracle, my dark clouds did break,
Some true words of Love, words relieving my ache,
They filled my heart, the sunshine, the rays,
The beginning of the end of, My Darkest Days

You will never know, how you helped me survive,
I'm so glad to be here, I'm so glad I'm alive,
You fill my heart, in so many ways,
The shadows are gone, from My Darkest Days

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Shellbell commented on My Darkest Days

08-01-2009

This is a wonderful poem.not many get clear skys from that kind of life.I guess they just have to find the fight in sided to servive..

connsk8 commented on My Darkest Days

06-16-2009

Beautifully said, what a tribute to your children..they have that magic about them and you described it perfectly, how children can bring about such healing and wisdom in their innocence and in their youth, I dont' go to church but I carry God in my heart and I believe he sends us and gives us the "tools" we need to survive this crazy world of ours.. Keep writing, keep your Hope alive!!

kenparme commented on My Darkest Days

04-06-2009

I love this poem-it is one of best things I've read-Great job.

Paradice21 commented on My Darkest Days

11-30-2008

Awesome poem! Keep on writing.

BridgetBowen commented on My Darkest Days

11-12-2008

This was wonderfully emotional. I'm sorry you suffered but I'm glad you found your way back to the light.

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

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