No one wants to face.. the unbelievable.. Even.. when they see her bleed.. she must live in a world filled with.. silent secrets .. silent screams.
Look beyond. closed doors to see.. It is on her innocence that he feeds. She is locked in an endless dark closet.. eaten by demented needs.. of silent secrets. silent screams.
No one understands her world.. They preach to her.. religiously.. Pretending they don't see her tears. She is lost in her own unescapable fears.. of silent secrets. silent screams.
Look away from her eyes.. Turn your back .. Walk away.. As she pleads.
To late to change the curse as her childhood begins to bleed .. To late to help.. the helpless. To late as the floors turn red To late to see .. To late to listen To late.. she is dead.
She has now found peace.. In her tiny dark grave. No longer will she be afraid. Gone forever.. her innocence.. her life.. Do not mourn.. There is no need. She has finally escaped the hell of silent secrets .. silent screams.
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
Just lovely, brilliant, deeply moving!
I'll be back to review more, Friend!
Richard Vallance
TRASK
A heart-rending word-picture of a disturbing, emotional subject.