Law Of Conservation of Energy


The humid air that engulfs you is both comfort, and not. The unfamiliarity of it all, is a bit overwhelming.

Just seconds before all you knew was the dark. Now held in open, as this new environment is just too much. Your mouth slimy and agape. You can’t think of anything else to do but let a loud whale escape

Until a giant comes and caresses you red soft features. That’re so small that can’t compare to hers

Her features that tear up That quiver and soften, with what you may only guess is joy

Her little boy, Cradled up in her strong, gentle embrace. Somehow, this thought dries the tears on your itty bitty eyes, itty bitty face.  And wipes the fear of this alarming new place.  As you grow old, so does she. Your fear of The light ceases to be- Not even a hint of memory, is left at all

You no longer cry or bawl, because she never left your presence,  and her security at night allows you to rest

You are her permanent guest. Her goal is to make you feel blessed, which she does. In that household there is all but Fuss. Understanding and care is a must. It is a place of trust and of love.



One day she-who has been there for your first steps, first owie and everything alike-

She can’t smile or hug you, when times of strife seem to replace all good. The clock has struck its last strike. You hold on, with all your might. All her lectures hadn’t prepared you for this most unfortunate night. She pulls you closer, then whispers, “I’m not gone yet. You’re still here, ain’t cha?”

Then she fades. Soul and all color empty, as her hand falls from behind your ear. That long-forgotten fear is no longer so forgotten, and pays a visit. You’re in the dark. Again. But she’s not there to caress your face and wipe off your salty tears. It’s been so long, years and years, so you don’t know what to do, other than let your emotions come out. Your-now-drenched-pillow is the only comfort to you now. Time doesn’t stop for you. And as it doesn’t, the feeling of nothing good, engulfs you. It takes a lot of time to recover. A lot of time.  Eventually, your tears dry on your stained cheeks. One day in the future, you shall meet another to take care of you. She doesn’t even begin to compare, but there is enough love in the world, in you, to share. Years pass on, like cars on an interstate. After all this time, she’s still looking out for you. Until….. 


The humid air engulfs them both. It’s both comfort and not. The unfamiliarity of it all, a bit overwhelming, you’re sure. Just seconds ago, they knew nothing but dark. Now, held in the open, it is forgotten, as their new environment is just too much. Their little mouths, slimy and agape. Can’t think of anything to do but let a loud whale escape. Until you, the giant by the bedside, caresses their red features, features so small, they can’t compare to yours, that quiver and soften, with what you know to be joy. Your joy that had diminished for what seems like ages, comes back, as you vow to make them feel blessed, your permanent guest. Because of her, you won’t be the best, but you sure will give it your best, best shot to make the household full of trust, love and care. Looking back, when nothing in life was at all a bit fair, you hush their cries of woe, you both whisper, ‘Don’t worry. We won’t let you go.’ With that, your love, your happiness, your story, and support from above, lives on.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741