Sky rises the moon, stargazing missed.
A fleeting touch, a chilling kiss,
A child's confusion, a world cruel's sons.
His teeth, like tiny, sharp-edged blades,
Left marks on my skin.
Sea misses the shore,
I miss the love,
But not the one I got that night.
My father's friend, a trusted face,
His smile a mask, his touch a disgrace.
I, a child, too young to understand,
The weight of secrets, the shifting sand.
My parents' blame, a bitter sting,
A poisoned arrow, making me sing
A song of sorrow,
For someone, anyone, to set me free.
My father saw, his eyes did know,
The truth concealed.
His silence screamed, a deafening cry,
A betrayal deeper than the sky.
The memory lingers, a haunting ghost,
I hate my father, for what he did,
For his inaction, his silent bid.
To shield his friend, to save his face,
At the expense of my innocence, my grace.
The scars remain, both seen and unseen,
A constant reminder, a bitter scene.
I yearn for justice, for truth to prevail,
But the burden of silence, I cannot fail
To carry with me, a heavy load,
A shattered childhood, a path I've trod.
- skeletal poet
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Skeletal Poet's Sonnents
PoesíaInvisible Lockets July 5th, Under the pine tree, Filling my lungs with butterflies Of your smile And sandal whispers of the ground. I must be the foolish one, Seeking for love When the cupid's arrow Struck striaght in my heart. So in love I...
