I am a broken man. You can't break me.
I set the Eric Fischer's book of poems aside and stared into the blankness. I know that feeling. I have felt my life shatter before me. I looked at my broken remnants on the floor and wondered if I'd ever adjust, ever have the energy to reassemble my life... or even care to. The physical exhaustion: I ached for sleep like a starving man, like a strung out junkie, like the undead. I understood the difference between merely tired and delirium. The emotional exhaustion: I could feel my very soul ripping apart. I learned that courage was getting up each day to face a life that only got worse, and doing what had to be done... no matter how unpleasant, how painful, how utterly pointless... I wept until my heart became dry, and hard, and cold.
Eric Fischer knows this life. His book proclaims: I am a broken man; I cannot be broken. I like that sentiment very much. It captures how I feel exactly. You can't hurt me any more than I've already been hurt. I have been broken... and what remains of my shattered life is unbreakable.
Eric cares for disabled son, Segev and writes about it beautifully in his book of collected poems available here:
and at Amazon:
You can visit his blog at:
#poetry #books #disability #specialneeds #parenting #inspiration #meditation