by Nicholas Alan Tillemans
Monday, April 16, 2007
Not rated by the Author.
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I wonder about tomorrow...
My existence on shifting ground and crumbling stones...
Another piece of a puzzle that brings no comfort,
Only buckets brimming with sorrow and uncertainty.
An angry part of me is neglected and unforgiving.
My compassion is cold and distant.
My rhythm is confused.
My arms tighten around a vacant memory.
When I pray, no one answers.
When I reach out, no one reaches back.
There is a room for rent somewhere in this pit called a heart
But no one wants to live there,
Least of all me;
Because there is no salvation, no reprise, no resolve...
Just an ugly, stubborn, painful love
That won't let go
Until, under the weight of too many agonizing days,
It's torn away. ††††††††
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|Reviewed by Lois Christensen
|We akk feel like this at times in our lives. Hopefully you have moved onto a better life you have made for yourself. We must all make our own sunshine, and to be sad for long isn't meant to be. You deserve to be happy sometime in your ]lifetime,|
|Reviewed by Barbara Mercer
|Passionate and poignant poem, excellent writing. Thank you,