Sunday, July 15, 2007


As this child within me thrives
All that is left of what survived
The wound was mortal
The damage was grave
In cleansing waters
That will not cleanse
My heart was ripped but not my soul
Somehow the sun seems to shine
Yet it's brilliance seems dull
When I look up into the clouds
Or at the stars when night falls
I seem to forget what it is that pains me
Pink has always been my favorite color
Finding a pink bunny for my comfort
I know-is out of the question
Still my imagination seems to keep me occupied
It is only during the quiet times
When traveling to my secret place
In the place where safety resides
Then again those quiet times
When the wind is silent and the sky is strange
Those hauntings come out of the past
The ones-you know,that seem to strangle you
The relentless pounding of those words
I did not think of the manipulations
My only hope was to somehow survive
I am not a victim-I am a survivor
The hauntings shall remain under my feet
The secret place comforts me
My ripped heart has scars,but it shall mend

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

wow! how do you write so many poems? how many do you write in a day? i am trying to keep up with you!