Refusing to vanish,
I barely can manage
To forcefully banish
Before it Returns
A whisper unkind
In the back of my mind
That speaks cruel and snide
Little Comments that burn
'Your Family sees
Respect and rights being
Commodities, something
That has to be earned
Lovers will use you
And friends will abuse you
And choose to refuse you
The love you deserve"
That tune has played
for far too long
Although so far it
hasn't been wrong
But Instead of Sinking
Into despair, thinking
"That last bit would
make a great song."
YOU ARE READING
painted poet
PoetryWhat memories give me grief or gratitude, Tempts my firey attitude, comes to my mind In the wee hours of night Or of the mornings first blinking light, The second edition to my collection of fragments, pulled together like bits of stained glass, ...
