A writing prompt from the title of Tim O'Brien's book..
I carry the Irish troubles
the tenement child's poverty
the rosary of losses generations' old
carry a backpack of disappointment
molded into sorrow
too heavy to bear
I carry the good girl cross
on my forehead:
give away your possessions,
your time,
your life blood,
with never enough Gilead's balm
to soothe the world's pain.
I carry secrets
stories untold
best forgotten
but still causing pain.
I carry the flame for the fire
brought from Ireland
lighting candles to beg for blessings
on the living and the dead
in the darkness of winter
the scorching heat of summer,
unanswered prayers
the circle like gnats.
I carry impossible dreams
forever believing
in tomorrow.
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