When they opened him up, they spotted

In his stomach cavity, a vacuum.

He’d told them it was there

But no one believed him.

They knew what had been there

They saw the scar where the cord had been cut,

It retracted upon touch,

The shame still so real.

Around his bed, they gathered to consider the options.

“We could fill it with stuffing,” said one

“Counsel him, he might adopt a replacement,” the hopeful one suggested.

“He’s long in the tooth now,” explained another.

“Does he really want to go down that path again?” asked the wise one.

They pondered the emotional hole

What might be best?

He’d have to face the fact he was past it now

He’d had chances in life and blown them all

There was a limit to the emotion allotted to him.

One then touched his hand, felt it tighten,

He still craved the human touch.

“Best let him heal,” said the headman.

So they left him, knowing he might or might not

Seek love again; find cause to fill the vacuum.

His past record was grim in itself

They didn’t hold much hope.


This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Emptiness

  1. Suzanne says:

    Gosh, what a piece of writing. I started off laughing at the thought of a vacuum in the stomach and thought you’d write about an insatiable appetite. Then I realised you were talking about an emotional vacuum. By the end I felt like crying. I think the voice that said let him heal was very wise. Nature can offer great solace to those of us who carry an emotional void inside. That’s been my experience anyway.

  2. Billy Mac says:

    Very powerful Michael

  3. calmkate says:

    very well written, autobiographical?

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