I could die with no water in my cup,
Because I just let it all spill upon the carpet
And there is no room for laughter in this place….
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Claudia Krizay
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Oh, Claudia,
I have been meaning to write a response to some of your recent posts but because of them being so personal and private, I dont want to intrude,fearing lest I might say something inappropriate. I know you need your own private space.
You have been thought about though here in the UK, especially on my walks through the woods.
Then someone else wrote of feeling isolated and so I determined to send you a comment as I figured it couldn't do any harm.
I was going to post a tag on one of your less 'disturbing' poems, but then, as has happened before, I came across this powerful one soon after writing my sharepost this morning... Do hope you will read it if you have time The coincidence is amazing:
As you see I wrote of 'the baby that didn't cry...'
Your post is so profoundly speaking suffering agony welling up from the earliest beginnings, and yet you have found a way to let beauty enter in too, such is your amazing way with words and the unique way you see the world especially nature's beauty.
Hope you read this,
from
friend Chris
UK