Andras,erkennst du wie wunderbar du bist ...Dio mio !
As I sit here reading a book
i am suddenly reminded of my mother
she sits at the kitchen table reading
wearing thick framed glasses
the sight as a child filled with me sadness
what were those books ?
romantic novels probably
the unhappiness and loneliness of my mother
surrounded her like a soft grey light
i felt i was somehow responsible for her plight
even though nothing was ever said
my father had caused this pain and
his name was never mentioned
i was like a piece of blotting paper
my heart absorbing the pain of her sadness
a trait i have carried all of my life
if i open my heart to someone
i feel their pain sometimes more intensely
than they do themselves
a sweet young child
innocent and beautiful
precious and treasured
one of the lucky ones
not trafficked as sex slaves
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2002/jul/12/internationalcrime