What was you thinking as the wet cloth in your hand wiped it from existence?
Did you have no resistance.
Did you smirk as it vanished.
Was it what I deserved.
What demon did you pay for your justification,
to erase from the wall such illumination.
Did you feel it as I looked as I saw,
did you feel my heart shatter right there on the floor.
Did I rise too high
was it to remind me,
you won’t abide that I fly.
What did you think as you wiped at the chalk,
erasing it out wasn’t your fault?
Karen Hayward ©2016
A picture I drew my daughter (when she was poorly) on the chalkboard a few months back got erased today. these are my end of them day thoughts on it.