I cannot see the strength in me, only
Lunacy; neurotic speciousness
I abhor; a spore in my core ... save me,
Some godly love, from versions of madness.

I cannot believe there’s power in me,
It seems too small a thing to overwhelm
Anything, much less a world. If only
I was a deity of other realms...

I cannot find life’s force in me, only
A facsimile; benumbed and muted;
Damned to be sad observer; inside me
Resides, selfishly, substance refuted.

I will not waste my time with me, I see,
Now, beyond my smallness, lies -- mystery.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 7/22/04