A Very Short Poem
I see your heart;
I feel your pain;
I hope that we can talk again.
Sometime.
I cannot know how you were broken,
The dreadful words that once were spoken;
I can only imagine how you were played
Resulting in a hurt that stayed…
and stayed so long it steeped in rage,
a pain inside, a hurt so vile
now you foist it on some unfortunate child
and yet it doesn’t disappear,
all that sorrow, all that fear.
It remains inside you just as clear.
Trying to hide from your childhood pain
You’re hurting others again and again.
You’ve become the fear that you once knew
And now you hurt the children too.
How’s that working out for you?
Get some help, coward.
Who is the “I” that I think that I am?
Am I the Tiger?
Or am I the Lamb?
Who is the “I” that I have become
When all of my pieces have merged into one?
Who is the “I” that’s connected by breath
to my very beginning… to my body at death?
Who is the “I”?
And will I ever know if it matters at all
if I come or I go?
In the very big picture, I’m a drop in a storm;
In my heart,
at this moment,
I just want to be warm.
