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s
h a t t e r e d g l a s s
…There is a dark room:
A cold room
With only one person in it
Fear is felt
Hurt and pain
And loneliness isn't far behind
As crowds of people are screaming
From every which way
And their voices are inescapable
While a solitary heartbeat
Stops pounding
And tears escape
From a life of imprisonment
They create a continuous flow
And fall without hesitation
Downward
And onto the floor
As if they were shattered glass
And their pieces could never be found…
…Again…
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b
r o n x z o o
…I feel captive of the world around me
As I glance through my cage
(Of protection and confinement)
And see the passing eyes
And hear the amazed sounds of smiles
I wonder of my fate and destiny
For people accept me as a stuffed fascination
And cage me without consent
(Of hope or being)
Oh to live a life of freedom
That is my ultimate dream
And my friends are in my place
(Of a caged society)
And they wonder of me
As I think of them
For we wish for freedom
And demand to be heard
So when I touch my bars of jail
And see those passing eyes
I feel ashamed
(For it prevents me from forgetting
My bored and captive life)
And my friends of freedom shelters roam
For to be free is my painstaking goal
And to run wild is my everlasting dream
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f
l i g h t
Dreams are meant to be fulfilled,
And dreams are meant to be shard.
That's what he thought,
That's what he always wanted
He was so full of life,
His soul was free
But his body was weighted
With illness.
His heart grew heavy
With each passing day,
But he never lost sight
Of his dreams.
He never gave up;
And he never lost sight
Of who he really was.
I respected him for that,
I respected him
For who he was,
And I was grateful for the time
That we did have.
And every time
I think of him,
I will smile,
Because I know
That he
Would have wanted it that way. |
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c
h i l d r e n
…We are small and meek,
and forced to keep silent,
by a large society,
who believe that we are not there.
And so they ignore us.
Youth and immaturity
are our bedfellows.
And thus, we are not trusted
by those around us.
Our minds are worthless
and must be molded,
or we may not survive.
They do not hear our inquiries,
nor do they confront
our probing questions.
(And why should they bother,
when they can't
even pretend to care?)
For we do not ask much -
just to be seen and understood.
And if we yell loudly enough
we know that we
will force them to listen.
And on that day,
we will have undergone
a transformation,
and our wishes will
finally have been granted…
…While forced to surrender
ourselves and our ideals
to an unwanted war
with our untrusting society
of loneliness and despair.
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o
l d f l a m e
I used to lay awake at night,
just wondering about you
and the days gone by.
Do you do that too…
…think of me, as I think of you?
I really wish I knew.
For I still recall the way
you held me with your lips
pressed ever so gently against mine.
What made you stop?
What made you walk away?
What was it that forced
our relationship to change?
As I said before,
I honestly wish I knew
because I honestly miss you.
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s
t r i d e
…and with no support
i will survive
a fate of pain and sorrow,
while my own strength
is forced to ascend.
my faculties
are chained to my side,
as if i were a street dweller
with my precious possessions
anchored permanently
upon my back.
and i maintain a steady,
yet defensive stride
through the darkened streets
of yesterday
which lead to nowhere.
and no one is there…
i look all around,
but can only see darkness,
because no one else
is ever there…
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g
o o d - b y e
I thought you would share yourself with me,
But you ignored my protests, and turned away.
You said you'd always be there for me,
You promised, you lied.
(but you always lied.)
oh, how I still need you desperately,
in my arms and by my side.
For I held you a little to close,
Depended upon you a little too much,
And so you ran, far away…
…From the fingertips that caressed you,
and the eyes that thanked you,
for all that you were.
And I am left here to drown,
In the midst of my own tears,
Which feast upon my anguish,
And rest themselves in a reflecting pool
Around my aching feet.
And you never let me say:
"Good-bye"!
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the hunt
...it is only a game,
yet my mood is somber,
and my strength is in tact,
for a battle of wits
with no time for fear
or remorse,
(i never asked to be the victim here)
and so i must prepare myself
to endure this challenge,
and evade the adversary at hand,
and like a panic stricken fox,
i must remain a step ahead,
because i have only one chance
to survive,
and when I strike back,
i will do it with swiftness,
then the hunt will be over,
and i will have won!
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