My Pride has a Face
by Antoinette Kopperfield — Read all 219 poems by Antoinette Kopperfield
Monday, March 28, 2005
I am surrounded by friends-
and once again it reminds me
of cubbyholes-filled with love…
and they flow with passion…
laughter…affection…
I am only a seed...
planted in the garden of poetry
where my life or death waits
and I can find-
either
my beginning…or my end
I dream with all of you…
though my heart lies with my pen-
or my thoughts may be transposed
to dust where they lie unopened
Realizing this, I must go on....
I must write to survive
or live with emptiness-
If that, I shall never find-my own soul
or my own words
which long to be sung…
Each day I scour…
for the path I have never chosen
I wind my thoughts around and around…
again and again...indifferent
I swirl them with colors
Sometimes with gray-or with black…
For my truths rise up to the surface
and my pride has a face-
though it wears a mask
and it is always
supervened-
by my emotions…
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