Holding a pocketful of whys.
Pain is my confession.
You were forced on me.
Always prayed to die.
Did you ignore my craziness?
Prayers were never answered—
no angels watched over me.
I dream of your arms around me.
I still wait for an answer.
I said my rosary.
I Put Flowers on My 
Mother’s Grave
By Lisa J. Farabelli
VA Medical Center—Lebanon, PA

You came to me in a dream.
I hardly knew you.
Wishing I had a father.
No one could take your place.
Remembering our walks,
with strawberry ice cream.
Everyone has said that I look like you.
Hating other men wasn’t the answer.
You left me too soon.
Pain was the only thing you left.
I put flowers on my mother’s grave.