Some people you only have to look at

to know they have not felt the agony you have.

Oh, maybe they lost someone once a long time ago

but you somehow know they’ve forgotten that pain

exactly what it feels like,

they can’t reach out and touch it anymore

can’t imagine yours.


The woman in her house with her new carpeting, her kids,

Jason’s five now, Where does the time go?

and Howard, how he always plays golf on Saturdays but

It gets him out of my hair.


Life, the daily grind of it

seems easy for her

because Howard is home with the kids

in the backyard waiting for her

showing off his new clubs.

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Writer and Poet

Tricia McCallum profile

Tricia McCallum

Always be a poet. Even in prose.
Charles Baudelaire.

In essence I am a storyteller who writes poems. Put simply, I write the poems I want to read.[…]

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