Why not now

It is now 2023. The leaves are still as are the branches of the trees above. The frost has given them an eerie sense of stillness. The sun has risen up though and would soon be thawing at their hearts and life will then be able to flow through them again. I look at them and wonder what the point of life really is, especially if all of us need a sun, which is hidden from view, however which can still come into our lives and give it nourishment. How to find that sun, the one which one could orbit around and get sustenance from; an impossible dream sometimes. The sound of him coughing ripped through the quiet night. It came once, was followed by another, its echo and then all went silent. I stirred once, opened my eyes and then as if in a trance, shut them again. It had been nothing, all was quiet. I lay listening to the sounds of the night though; the clock in the other room continued its periodic ramblings, tick-tock; a broken toy whirred in the dark somewhere before going silent again.

What to write or say, There is something which I need to say. They come and they go They still need a mother and so does their brother. He does not come over that much,  But he does still. They know, but do they care, no, they don’t; This is a really sad tradition Taking children away from mothers And letting ex husbands do so with the assistance of their friends and brothers. It is illegal to do so, I hear the parliament say, But do they turn around and help when you ask them to or do they say, No. Let them know that it is wrong but do they say it when you ask them to say so, No. What should I write today, the day is a bit cloudy It is going to rain again And cloud our judgements still.

Its gone they say, the capacity to write.  I know but won’t say so not so much that they know that I know.  I wonder why I don’t want them to know, especially when I have said it all, to the police even. However, he makes them cry and then promise that they will not let anyone know that he has been cruel to them.  They cry and then they smile when I ask them and I know that they are afraid but won’t say anything against him. What should I do, I am really tired.  He uses them, sends them away on holidays, takes them to movies, He spends money like there is no tomorrow  And children like it so much that they get pleased but it is like a disease. I know not what I should write, I know though that it is Depressing to sometimes And the pain in the pit gets stronger and stronger And that which is there will not diminish or not linger. I see them sometimes and not too often anymore,  I wonder how many other mothers this happens to  And how many live without their children Who grow up as the s

To write on a clean slate. But what should I say. To know not what the future holds. Is such a lovely trait. I lost the art of knowing the present. Was in 2009, I am sure. It was then that it all turned into a blur, or was it six years later when I realised that I had been taken for a ride. By none other than the one who I had permitted into my life. It was sad, to say the least. My children had grown up all oh so tall, and this mostly without me. They are even taller now and know that it is wrong to lie, but it has turned into a compulsion for them, although in the astral space they will not lie. Then they are being truthful when they say that they have been abused, and I have seen so many scars between 2016 and 2023 that I find it difficult to not believe. It is true and not a fabrication, the face tells all they say, or is it the mind which is difficult to control. The truth is out and no one knows or is it that everyone does but does not show. I think not, and just jot my thoughts