Poem-I can remember
Buried somewhere beneath the ground,
under grass, and clay and rock,
there is no sound, the screaming has died away,
down below, where the vampires sleep away their lives,
I could never break free, i could never move away,
they kept me prone, scared, vunerable, they kept me locked in their grasp,
they kept me in a cage, of lies and obligation,
a smirk on her face,
a glare on mine,
and always the obligation, that i have to be there, have to care for them, have to always be around.
A lock was broken,
ropes were torn away,
my tears dried,
and the fact that i thought i belonged with them at one pojnt, never seemed to matter,
that only the hope of getting on with things, the endevour of going my own way,
kept me alive.
Alive, but i was dead always deep inside,
frozen to the core, kept in place always, and at a loss for words,
i can remember, being hurt
by cold words, cold water, cold anger,
cold heart.
The cold heart,
what a couple of words,
that mean so much,
a loving, living, breathing thing, that never stops beating,
carrying on and on,
until at one moment, it cracks,
the blood and tears pour over
on to the floor of the swimming pool,
pour out onto the world,
they lace her with a twisted desire to always feel sadness, always to feel a solemn cut,
on her pride, her dignity,
her wounds.
I would like to, even if it were only a second, especially if it were only a second, to look at her face once more,
to see it and think of all the things i have thought of, the things i would like to say,
and say nothing.
She will know what i mean.
It is the saying nothing that means the most,
the fickle love of two people,
who mean nothing to one another.
I dont want to do that to someone i love,
someone i have created,
someone i have to answer for,
maybe it is not meant to be,
I want to go to them,
I want to point the finger, and scream, and shout, and show them what they did to me,
but of course, i am not the innocent.
I have prayed to the Gods that they will never ever come back, never set foot in my life in any way,
I pray that it is so,
close your eyes, remember a time when you were young,
can you see the danger? the control? the pain? the hurt?
can you see in your eyes what you are like to them,
strange, a stranger in strange land,
a mocherie of what they are,
and never let it be forgotten,
that you can do better,
that you look around and see that all is well,
nothing can change my happiness,
and take life for what it is,
a gift of freedom.
under grass, and clay and rock,
there is no sound, the screaming has died away,
down below, where the vampires sleep away their lives,
I could never break free, i could never move away,
they kept me prone, scared, vunerable, they kept me locked in their grasp,
they kept me in a cage, of lies and obligation,
a smirk on her face,
a glare on mine,
and always the obligation, that i have to be there, have to care for them, have to always be around.
A lock was broken,
ropes were torn away,
my tears dried,
and the fact that i thought i belonged with them at one pojnt, never seemed to matter,
that only the hope of getting on with things, the endevour of going my own way,
kept me alive.
Alive, but i was dead always deep inside,
frozen to the core, kept in place always, and at a loss for words,
i can remember, being hurt
by cold words, cold water, cold anger,
cold heart.
The cold heart,
what a couple of words,
that mean so much,
a loving, living, breathing thing, that never stops beating,
carrying on and on,
until at one moment, it cracks,
the blood and tears pour over
on to the floor of the swimming pool,
pour out onto the world,
they lace her with a twisted desire to always feel sadness, always to feel a solemn cut,
on her pride, her dignity,
her wounds.
I would like to, even if it were only a second, especially if it were only a second, to look at her face once more,
to see it and think of all the things i have thought of, the things i would like to say,
and say nothing.
She will know what i mean.
It is the saying nothing that means the most,
the fickle love of two people,
who mean nothing to one another.
I dont want to do that to someone i love,
someone i have created,
someone i have to answer for,
maybe it is not meant to be,
I want to go to them,
I want to point the finger, and scream, and shout, and show them what they did to me,
but of course, i am not the innocent.
I have prayed to the Gods that they will never ever come back, never set foot in my life in any way,
I pray that it is so,
close your eyes, remember a time when you were young,
can you see the danger? the control? the pain? the hurt?
can you see in your eyes what you are like to them,
strange, a stranger in strange land,
a mocherie of what they are,
and never let it be forgotten,
that you can do better,
that you look around and see that all is well,
nothing can change my happiness,
and take life for what it is,
a gift of freedom.