Letters to Burn (poem) by Stephanie S. Sawyer on AuthorsDen

Letters to Burn
by Stephanie S. Sawyer → (All Poetry by Stephanie S. Sawyer)
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Booze kills relationships.
Letters to Burn by Stephanie S. Sawyer Don’t make me look through them, They rip at my soul, Yet, how can I cast them away? These letters of hatred, Repugnance unfolding Rejection of utter dismay. A stack in my bureau Assembled through years Of hope – killed and dashed to its knees. These are my answers, The daggers of blindness, Rejecting my hope and my pleas. Letters where loved ones Once warm in my heart Now cast me aside to the dogs. Letters influenced By outside attack, Discard me as lesser than frogs. Attack, it is narrow Defined through their booze. Denial, its game and its glee. Don’t try to reshape it, It takes its own road And chooses its own family. So, now I am left With letters of pain Of rending and sheer agony. I won’t let these letters Of scathing and torture Remain as my fast memory. They’re all I have left now, Voices unheard, Samples of writing; that hand. Yet, look at my heart, How it spins with distress, Sunk to the callous command. Go, get me the match. For what can I lose? Release my bold heart from its churn. There’s naught I can gain From these memories within. Give me the match; let them burn! February 13, 2004

Reviewed by Lauri Barbato (Reader)

Reviewed on September 27, 2004

Very gripping. Recall, but months ago, I read your other poetries and commented that most of your poems flow like a songs. This one in particular touches a broader category of people in a compelling way. Perhaps a refrain can be written with a melody to fit message and heartache this entire work of art here represents. Again, another contender for the Hit Parade, Stephanie. Lauri B.

Reviewed by Jeff Mason

Reviewed on September 25, 2004

much truth is held within your intense poetry. -- Jeff

Reviewed by Nordette Adams

Something that needs to be said. A direct, powerful message, spotlighting a decision I think we all struggle with at some point, whether to hold on to a tangible reminder of pain or burn and release. You did a good job with this, Stephanie.

Reviewed by Bhuwan Thapaliya

Go, get me the match.
For what can I lose?
Release my bold heart from its churn.
There’s naught I can gain
From these memories within.
Give me the match; let them burn!

Hello....very powerful write...I loved the way you ended this fantastic write....clap clap clap....love n luck....BHUWAN