Posts Tagged ‘millathenightbaker.blogspot.com’

Leaving A Voicemail Goodbye: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

February 8, 2014

It’s very hard to/
call your daughter and leave her /
a “Goodbye” voice mail.

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Life From Death: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

February 8, 2014

Can there be a life from/
Death? If it changes someone’s/
behavior, maybe!

Be An Example: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

February 8, 2014

I’m afraid her death/
will encourage others to/
follow her dark path.

Fatherly Love Lacking: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku Lament

February 8, 2014

At some point a few/
dads learn that fatherly love/
just isn’t enough.

Worried About The Night Baker: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

November 15, 2012

In the middle of/
the night, worried about her,/
I wish I could bake.

My Daughter’s Daring Gift: Revolutionary Blogging Sonnet

October 8, 2012

My darling, dying daughter is daring.
Willing to explore her feelings,
able to express her caring
through the pain and suffering she’s revealing.

Though she fears loathing and ridicule,
she loves unseen others more.
By exposing her personal fire’s fuel,
she’s guiding sufferers to a hopeful shore.

Today someone who she’s never met
was lead to read her writings.
As my daughter exposed experiences we’d rather forget
she gave another hope to keep on fighting.

Sometimes a greater love for another just means
we don’t have to die; we just have to be seen.

Written after my daughter wrote in her blog Milla the Night Baker
and someone responded at 5:06 a.m. on October 8th, 2012 saying how her writing was helping.

Watching, Helpless, My Daughter Die: Revolutionary Improv Sonnet Lament

September 3, 2012

I’m watching my daughter die.
She’s starving her body to death.
Why can’t I even cry?
Why can’t I barely draw a breath?

What brought her to this bleak abyss?
Does it really matter?
All I know is that she’d be missed;
My world would be much sadder.

So I’m putting aside my selfish ways,
my lack of focus and my pride.
I will spend my talents and days
in efforts to fix her dying insides.

Was I responsible for her ills? I now don’t care.
But I know I’ll be at fault if I just leave them there.