All I Have Left

Sickly white knuckles, gripping a bleached kitchen sink,

My heart pounds within my chest

A steady thump, thump, thump.

All silence except the screen,

Slamming against the wood door.

The swaying trees whisper the answer

To my unspoken question

"Just wind, just wind".

These trees, my sanity,

Almost pulled from their roots.

Tan knuckles resting upon a bleached kitchen sink

My heart thuds lightly in my ribcage

Thump, thumpthump, thump.

Once more the screen,

Beats against the wood door

No need for convincing

"Just wind, just wind".

Yet, more noises follow

The slamming of the screen

Two quick raps upon the door

My feet carry me,

Without consent of my soul or mind,

To the man standing outside my door,

Holding two things I never wished to see.

A dirty army cap in one hand,

A metal dog tag in the other.

My heart escapes from my chest,

Its wild panting too much for my frail body.

My eyes become waterfalls.

Knees are suddenly on the ground,

Arms are suddenly shaking,

Hands are suddenly gripping all I have left.

All I have left of my little boy.

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A/N: This is a poem for English... Enjoy