Posted in Poems

I cannot breathe


A sadness sits over me.
Anxiety tightens my heart.
Like a hangman’s noose.
I cannot breathe.

Drawn back to my childhood.
Of scary moments ingrained.
I saw what others didn’t.
Then too I couldn’t breathe.

I saw my father’s burden.
Five mouths to feed and clothe.
I constantly worried. I watched.
When I couldn’t breathe,
I escaped into my dreamscape.

Today, I am over whelmed.
Videos sent to me.
More forwarded to me.
Of suffering; of destitution.

It increases during Advent.
And now another Advent is here.
Prompting my conscience.
I see destitution; suffering.

Homeless and marginalized.
Hungry, dirty and sick.
Shunned, avoided at all cost.
Too many. Where does help start?

Poverty spreads like wildfire.
Soup kitchens spring up.
Like mushrooms they grow.
Feeding the poor, endlessly.

Take a look at nursing homes.
The aged abandoned in these.
Orphanages full to the brim.
And shelter homes short of beds.

You help one, another ten waiting.
Endlessly the hands reach out.
My heart is pounding. Suffocating.
Anxiety tightens. I cannot breathe.

By C.E. Pereira



I'm a Eurasian of Portuguese, English, Scottish and Malay heritage. And my extended family are of Chinese and Indian heritage. In recent years, the younger generation have added on to include spouses from the Philippines, Nigeria and Russia. My world is made up of different colours like the rainbow. And like the rainbow I am unique. Reading is my form of relaxation, to escape from the drudgery of daily life and enter into a world of the imagination. It is the love of reading that has led me to try my hand in writing short stories and poems. I hope that in some way my stories and poems will take you for a little while away from the drudgery of the present into the pages of imagination. To new friends found, I bid you, Welcome. Sincerely, C.E. Pereira

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