Sophie’s smile lights up the room,it enchants all who gaze at her.
Pictures of inward life seem to hold out a bright future.
Dirt and moss inhabit so many others,but not Sophie.
Can life be this easy,so mapped?
My fears for Sophie have been told as my dark fantasy,my projection,
Why,how could she hide an inward harm.?
Who am I to flag such gloom for this bloom?
My childhood sibling,adorned in beauty,formed out of love,destroyed by mental anguish.
My sister so full of laughter,so full of life,life,and more life.
Her laughter was a mechanism of denial,a sonic sad sound of dark matter.
I see it again in Sophie my pupil because I witnessed it all those years with my beloved sister.
Summer heat,difficult to breath,but long sleeves to hold off the prying gaze of a would be helper.
Who can interpret the Laughter,the smile,the pseudo existence.
Would Dante hold the key,would The rage of Yeats open the Sophie for Sophie to heal.?
I don’t know,I don’t know,I don’t know,and I rage,I rage,I rage against the sadness of it all .This repeated prophesy witnessed all those years ago,coming true again in 2015!!!
Our young people,oh how they often suffer and fall I desperation.
What to do?
We have to keep trying,keep being there.Using every person of know how we know to reach the vulnerable ones,to reach those whose Laughter hides a tragic tomorrow.