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Lost inside the man I once was lived a child in the unfolding of years this child was forgotten ill begotten with the effort of the climb even to the grassy hill where we can lay and while the hours away of another day and who can feel sad and lonely so many years in this beautiful scene so many places known so many people been never know to himself the sorrow the deep rending tears and tears wounding his body and pretending he had no fears the ache of the scar and the knee awaking now too too far from where he wants to be tired now, youth now has passed in a silent motion, and sure on bended knee always holding holding hold another day, a week, a year as in the military, all about 'bearing' a burden relieved by symbolic sharing still alone again, a life told in arrears so long ago they rode him out to here set him down with a smile and a nod to look and play in the grass so green the child he wasn't hasn't won't ever be laughs and plays in innocent glee and now he turns his face from fun and looks out again again to the one the one he hopes with daily rise the one he now is not surprised the one he knows will not arrive I paid the price and never counted costs I laid my vices and arms across I made my heart to open in such frost and still I wonder and wander, loving, lost |
Additional Notes:
In my relationships now, I have taken a real turn. I have been working and digging inside myself and I have and still have a lot, to learn. I have accepted the sadness of my conditioning in order that I may free myself from The Control Disease, and in so doing become a more authentic version of myself. Yes, it's sad, but also freeing and fun, in the end, to know I am moving forward, at longest last.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2008-08-02 16:26:15
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.88889
Regis,
You are certainly not alone. Most of us have had losses. Loss of youth, loss of innocence, loss of control/we really don't have much [a decision here and there]...but we learn and grow and then know! hooray at long last we can see more of the big picture. Time is lost with our loss.
I liked this and could follow it along good.
I think you are a bit too much an analyzer, although once you figure it out you can m move on to something else. Sounds like myself!
Writing helps work it out.
Dellena