Your Art

You, my darling, have a talent,

a truly hidden art.

I know, you see,

for you’ve deeply broken my heart.

I really thought I had it all.

I did not have a fear.

Yet as I cried my heart out,

everything grew clear.

Melting down within myself,

I sit and try to explain.

I only feel the betrayed soul

living life in pain.

It really wasn’t meant to be,

the way I was abused.

And that is why I dream at night,

I’m truly so confused.

A light within my shadowed mind

feels so abandoned and burdened.

Touching you would feel so great,

but would only strengthen the hurting.

Visions of my romance,

and my first and only love

will be my life for eternity,

but will never be enough.


4-4-89 Written by Gail Brookshire

(by the grace of God)


It came before.
It came too soon.
It came beneath
The pale lit moon.

It started now.
It started then.
It started after
The winter wind.

It went away.
It went again.
It went straight
For the end.

Was all a lie.
Was all a game.
There were no rules,
But it had a name,


1989 Written by Gail Brookshire
(published in Voices, Volume 1, No. 2, July 11, 1994 Issue, page 5)
(by the grace of God)