Elie's Poetry Corner

crying on the inside, turmoil. fear. doubt. dying on the inside weary. sleepless. night. Every day a battle. fighting. for my. life. Every night a struggle. will this. never. end? Too much pain around me. the pain. I see. I feel. If only I could help them. I want. my hands. to heal. For all the good it does me, I bow. my head. to pray. But there is no answer. No one's. listening. anyway.

Time goes on, as if it didn't know For me it's still. If not, it's moving slow. All these smiles, they stab me like a knife and no one knows -- how cruel is this life. I have no grave to visit, nor ashes to spread. I don't even know how long you've been dead. Can I choose to say it isn't so Can I block it out, as if I didn't know? If I could hold a paper in my hand, would I accept it then, would I understand? How did I let the years go by -- without picking up the phone just to say hi? Now simply because I didn't try I'll never even get to say goodbye. Do I even have the right to grieve? Am I allowed redemption or reprieve? Always too busy with my life to hear Always too tired, too stressed to lend an ear. The earth still spins and we have dawn even without you -- cruel life marches on.

Pressed between two pages, in a book upon a shelf. He seeks to hide your beauty, and keep it to himself. He plucked you from your garden, from everything you knew. He trimmed away the childhood friends, along whose sides you grew. He showered you with kindness, and fertilized your hope... before he banished you to darkness, with which you couldn't cope. He knows that you will wither, he knows that you will die. He knows that you cannot escape, because you'll never try. He's warned you of the dangers, that in the world await if ever you decide to roam, beyond his garden gate. You had thorns to protect you, but he wore a glove. He said you didn't need them, because you had his love. He'll let you live in misery, then put you on display He thinks that he's a potter, and you're a piece of clay. You envy things that aren't alive, because they cannot feel. Think maybe it's a nightmare, that none of it is real. You try hard to remember, y...

I know your self-esteem is tangled with his love that's how he knows, no matter what, it'll never be enough... to make you leave. I know you cry at night, and think you're all alone you're praying for a sign, and he throws you a bone so you won't leave. I know you hide the bruise, explain away the scar you never will admit, that he has gone too far and you don't leave. You think that he is broken, and you alone can heal explain away his drinking, it's his only way to deal but you don't leave. I heard last night you left, took all that you could take too bad you're in a sleep, from which you'll never wake.

You stab me with the knife of indifference right before you plunge me into the icy cold depths of apathy. All this as you smirk, and nudge and whisper. But as I get close the talking stops and silence reigns. And it is clear that you... think... you're... better... than... me. Better because: your clothes are neatly pressed... Your children are more well-behaved... you chose not to have children... You don't make as many mistakes... you don't forget things... You make friends easily... You're still married... You chose not to marry... And you smirk and laugh and judge so easily. You think you know me at a glance. You see: The way I dress. My shy manner. My rowdy children. My forgetfulness. You see my mistakes. But you don't see me. You never see me. You never know me. And you lose:  the comfort I give when my friends are in need.  a sympathetic ear. The thought I put into my gifts. My silliness and my humor. my empathy. The fun we coul...

There was a me, who used to be so very long ago. So much I was naïve about so much I didn't know. I thought the world was simple I thought I understood That I knew all about myself that I did what I should But now it's complicated I know that I was wrong. And when I look into the past, should have known all along The knowledge I possess now, was really always there I could have learned it back then, back then I didn't care. If I go back in history, years carefully arranged will I find that catalyst will I know why I changed? And if I met myself back then and took me by the hand, could the me that used to be, ever really understand? The years have shaped me like a potter changes clay they've added things, and molded things and taken things away. Some may say I'm better, Some might think I'm worse Should I stand tall, with head held high, or bear it as a curse?

Somewhere there is a chasm a hole too deep to fill something so deep and hollow that everything is still Watch your step! Don't fall in! You'll never find the light! You'll float in hell forever, until you curse the night. And if by chance you find the edge and pull yourself back out You'll be forever changed by it of this I have no doubt! So if you find this chasm let curiosity slide for you have heard the danger and this warning must abide. Round the chasm may be beautiful you may wonder what it holds You make think that you're prepared for it but please heed what you're told Nary one has entered, and come back without a mark and many more have not returned lost to the depths and dark You may think that there is treasure somewhere to be found But this is a lie, to lure you Nothing in there is profound Many have seen the danger but thought they would prevail They may still live there somewhere we no longer hear them wail. ...