A Registered nurse, wife, mother, poetic writer and United Way volunteer.Born in Belize, migrated to New York at age eighteen. After studying nursing, worked as an emergency room until starting a family.Having both natural and chosen children, it was the emotional struggles of the chosen ones that gave birth to many of her poems.Ruthieg believes that when all is forgotten or ignored, expressive words linger or get heard. That it is important for the hurt and wounded to have a voice, for that purpose, many of my poems were written.
In the empty house of snow, though, interred a blade of grass when I was searching one midnight flame in frozen night, on parting lips of darkness. The art of delusion churns the sea for an untitled arsenic, of a
You have given up Laid down your arms Whilst thinking that you are Still fighting, still going strong You have been blinded By the antithesis of love So much so that now you don’t even know Your ass from your
How can this happen, this horrible thing Beyond comprehension, my mouth covered, My eyes frozen, in horrified stillness. Surely a person could not do this, Could not be this cruel. A fire rose swiftly in my heart. My hand clinched