She had, reluctantly <br />gone on to Neverland, <br />where no one lived <br />and one could neither feel <br />nor hear the pain. <br />And where the scalpel rules <br />to do its dirty deed <br />in peace and secrecy. <br /> <br />The gods allowed <br />and she came back <br />her sight unveiled <br />the smiling thanks <br />of that one soul <br />worth seeing then. <br /> <br />He grinned, <br />a sheepish grin <br />which metamorphed <br />into a broad, <br />and so familiar smile. <br /> <br />The voice of incongruity <br />pronounced the words <br />that stayed with her, <br />'twas something about booze, <br />he loved her slurring, though.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/her-dad/
