All Comments on 'Hypesthesia: (Traced with a Nine)'

Oh mannnn... This is my favorite kind of poem... gutsy and real. Thanks, Mutt

this gave me chills, and almost made me glad I dont have a son

For prayers and pleas are air, and what remains

is dust and chalk and silence for her pains.

the last 2 lines are the clincher, wow, what pain you have shared, incredible :rose:

BT!!!

wow, I liked this one better than the other. A poignant look at slice of life. I love matching modern day issues to classic poetry. You did a good job at catching emotions and that last line, really really cohesive, it brought the whole poem together.