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Dedicated to the

Great North American Poet
Allan Wayne Elliott III


~ Grievances of My Mind ~

Grievance of not being whole
and able-bodied,
memories of past
are merely moments of my solitude.
From my eyes I see
from within this frail shell
the beauty of simplicity,
what other take for granted.

My words are unspoken
until I scribble them for view
with hopes that the reader
will be able to decipher.
Touching with only my mind,
remembering the feelings,
longing for the sense of touch
to feel what I cannot.

The delightful sensations
of pleasures by a caress.
Lingering kisses
tracing trails down sensual paths,
holding a lover breathless
by the touch of passion,
the birth of sexual fulfillment
as it trembles the soul.

I can only feel tears
as they trickles down my cheeks
trembling off my lips
descending to the floor unheard.
Sorrowed for the lost,
this simple pleasure and sensation,
affections of love shared by exchanges,
a simple gift of giving.

How or why
I have come to this
"meager existence"
is unknown,
I never realized
how much I looked forward
towards death.
It will be a relief
to my tormented mind
of endless thoughts.
Attentive of time
consuming my life,
I wait wanting to feel.

The sun will rise on the morrow
fresh and new,
waking the souls
to move forth with life.
For this day,
I await the birth of my death,
a new beginning, a new journey, a new life.


Copyright 2000 Tracey L. Hardie

This poem is a true story; Allan suffered with ALS and was only able to communicate with special equipment. (Like Steven Hawkins) I wrote this poem for him before his death, he knew I understood his thoughts and pain.