they way i feel
Deep Within
By Jessica Stewart
Waterfall tears poor down a hot sweaty face, cooling the pores of water that stung and burn like hot lashing out flames, that’s meant to hurt, and show anger to any and all human soles, that leave one wondering of the future that lies before them, hot like the summer sun when one is happy, not like now, as the rain of tears saddens a sunny day that was full laughter, and playfulness, playfulness that was once only experience, only witnessed, as a child that grew up and grew old to harmony, for now, the harmony has been burned by the flames of sorrow, its ashes smothered in the dirty mud, profusely stepped on by those with power, the power that can tear ones sole, one heart, ones life right away from them, leaving them in a terrifying predicament, a place where everyone is afraid to go, a place that many will see, a place that is called the sadness within, that many and all will run from like a mindless animal sitting on a busy road, frantically trying to find safety, a safety that can only be found in ones heart, but sometimes that heart is not there because of the abuse that it has received making these waterfall tears fall quicker than ever before when just early a smile was upon a face that change to burning hot flames, flames that await a hurtful life, and burn it away like the tip of a cigarette, melting it like a candle that sits on a table, with the wax running thickly down its human like cheeks, concealing its pores, dripping onto something solid that hold it all together, like the things that a shaking hand will grip just to make sure that there all together, a thing like a man or woman that one would consider a loved one that is used as a leaning post , a shoulder to cry on, with a hug to make this alright, that one might consider to be their protection, a protection most generally from themselves, more that their fears, more than the power of another that hangs over then, like a cloud, a cloud full of acidic rain, that tares at the skin, a cloud full of what might be considered negative or positive energy, energy from somewhere that one ever dreams about, somewhere that’s left to be unknown to the wondering, learning mind, because there is a presence, a presence that cannot be forsaken, and presence that if far from comprehendible, a presence that all should put thier faith in but one doesn’t because of this unknown, this presence is the power that holds one all’s soles, that binds the heart with the mind, that leaves no mistake in glory, unfortunately many soles will never see, and life will continue on the same way with all the dripping, all the running, all the burning hot flames, all the bleeding hearts, stop eventually and rest, where it feels safe and cools like the candle, or at least for the time being, when it all start over again, and the smile, and twinkling eyes overcome one and all’s faces.
By Jessica Stewart
Waterfall tears poor down a hot sweaty face, cooling the pores of water that stung and burn like hot lashing out flames, that’s meant to hurt, and show anger to any and all human soles, that leave one wondering of the future that lies before them, hot like the summer sun when one is happy, not like now, as the rain of tears saddens a sunny day that was full laughter, and playfulness, playfulness that was once only experience, only witnessed, as a child that grew up and grew old to harmony, for now, the harmony has been burned by the flames of sorrow, its ashes smothered in the dirty mud, profusely stepped on by those with power, the power that can tear ones sole, one heart, ones life right away from them, leaving them in a terrifying predicament, a place where everyone is afraid to go, a place that many will see, a place that is called the sadness within, that many and all will run from like a mindless animal sitting on a busy road, frantically trying to find safety, a safety that can only be found in ones heart, but sometimes that heart is not there because of the abuse that it has received making these waterfall tears fall quicker than ever before when just early a smile was upon a face that change to burning hot flames, flames that await a hurtful life, and burn it away like the tip of a cigarette, melting it like a candle that sits on a table, with the wax running thickly down its human like cheeks, concealing its pores, dripping onto something solid that hold it all together, like the things that a shaking hand will grip just to make sure that there all together, a thing like a man or woman that one would consider a loved one that is used as a leaning post , a shoulder to cry on, with a hug to make this alright, that one might consider to be their protection, a protection most generally from themselves, more that their fears, more than the power of another that hangs over then, like a cloud, a cloud full of acidic rain, that tares at the skin, a cloud full of what might be considered negative or positive energy, energy from somewhere that one ever dreams about, somewhere that’s left to be unknown to the wondering, learning mind, because there is a presence, a presence that cannot be forsaken, and presence that if far from comprehendible, a presence that all should put thier faith in but one doesn’t because of this unknown, this presence is the power that holds one all’s soles, that binds the heart with the mind, that leaves no mistake in glory, unfortunately many soles will never see, and life will continue on the same way with all the dripping, all the running, all the burning hot flames, all the bleeding hearts, stop eventually and rest, where it feels safe and cools like the candle, or at least for the time being, when it all start over again, and the smile, and twinkling eyes overcome one and all’s faces.