Marci Brockmann has journaled for over forty years and swears it keeps her sane. She is a columnist for Elephant Journal and the reception her writing received told her there was a book begging to be written: this book. She earned her B.A. from SUNY New Paltz, an M.A. from LIU/Post and an M.S. from the University of Phoenix, and she has been a high school English teacher for more than twenty years. She lives in Long Island, NY, with her husband, their kids, frisky cats, and many fishes.
Website: www.MarciBrockman.com
Facebook: Facebook.com/Marci527 & Facebook.com/marcibrockmannartist
YouTube Channel: What's up, Marci? - https://bit.ly/WhatsupMarci
Instagram: @marcibrockmann; @marcibrockmann27
Blog: What's up, Marci? – Whatsupmarci.com
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/marcibrockmann/
Media Kit: https://tinyurl.com/ybva5nfy
I sat so merry in my abode
Loving hands around me
I dreamt of such glorious days
One day i would see
I remember the day I left
My room
I closed the door behind me
One quick look again
Then walked away
The room which would always remind me
The glorious days I had dreamt
I did merrily spent
How little did I then know
Life turns on a dime
My room is now not as it was
When I closed the door
Behind me
My room now is a prison
But not how one would invision
It is one of sorrow and grief
Sadness burns into the bare walls
I catch my breath
And weep
Why did thou'st doth betray?
The room which once embraced me
I ask with riddled heart
Jagged and torn
Which wicked riddles have I thus sought?
I sit still
I am now my room
No dreams as once before
I age before my open door
In my room long ago
I sat merrily in my loving abode
Loving hands did hold me
All gone
My room and myself
Now one
Two thrust to be together
Forever
Alone