The man paces
outside, cigarette
smoke weaves
past the no smoking sign;
the butts on the ground
say otherwise.
He smiles through the masculine mask,
showing a glimpse of fear and hope,
and joyful femininity,
as he lets it
all slip to the ground.
And stamps out the past.
The other men doing the same.
Back and forward they dance.
Hammer beating in his chest,
startling the butterflies in his
stomach, bursting with pride.
But right now
it feels like a panic attack
about to hit full stride.
And in a single step,
he walks into the future.
The agonizing scream, primal echoes,
bearing down on the young woman.
And the man enters and holds her hand,
kissing her forehead, whispering futures,
that he will be there till the day
the sun burns away.
And down the hall, up a stairway,
an old man passes away, silently.
A single gasp, then
the daylight fades from his eyes.
He had finally grasped that
his time had been his own,
and he saw the stories he'd sown
in the hearts of those
he had known - flowerbed
memories that would always bloom.
And the smile sat till the last.
Back in maternity,
newborn tears
drip to the ground,
an echo ringing through
the corridors of time. Hope.
Along another hall, a young man
is fighting his inner demons,
they are winning.
Agonising scream piercing
the air, primal fear,
the voices he hears
making his battlefield mind
explode in defeat.
And outside a woman sits.
Bad news hangs heavy,
clouds into which she could hide.
But she pulls them apart,
letting the sunshine hold her tight.
And the friend at her side sits in silence,
just holding her hand, as she holds back
her own tears.
Newborn eyes blink in
the sunlight,
feeling its heat
for the first time.
Naked and set up
on a new life.
The mother lies in her eyes,
sadness mixed with joy,
fear with happiness.
The midwife hands
a bundle of stories
into their arms…
The first one already written.
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