Tuesday, 21 June 2011

The Cry of Quinnera and Kallista's Answer

This is a reposting of Quinn's poem posted here with her permission.

Following her poem is my answer in wich I speak for all of us as I know your hearts where Quinn is concerned.
Quinn is an exceptional poet. I encourage you all to go to her blog and read the others.


The Cry of Quinnera


She is tall and thin,
With eyes of oak,
Her skin is dark,
She hides in her cloak.

Only the cloak,
Can hide her tears,
Hiding the shame,
Hiding her fears.

The pages waft,
In her old notebook,
Her tears hit the floor,
As she takes a look.

Within the book,
Lies poems and more,
Stories and art,
Are what she saw.

Each words seems worse,
Worse than the last,
Every page,
Seems like scrap.

She doesn’t see why,
She thought she had talent,
She knows she had nothing,
To her this was apparent.


She wondered if they’d miss her,
Her family and friends,
She thought as she puled,
That they’d overcome her end.

Drawings and paintings,
Fell to the floor,
Of her works,
She saw more.

Her pillow was stained,
With tears and blood,
Blood from her wrists,
And tears of her love.

Her friends couldn’t see it,
What was going on,
They didn’t understand,
She would never belong.

She needed a shoulder,
She needed an ear,
To listen to her problems,
To understand her fear.

And she sighed because,
She knew her nightmare was coming true,
No one would miss her,
She was sure this was sooth.


Silent suffering is the worst,
As those who could help,
Will never see,
Your silent yelps.

She wants people to see,
She wants people to realise,
She wants people to help,
She wants people to sympathise.

But she’s scared they’ll tease,
She’s scared they’ll laugh,
She’s worried they’ll judge her,
It would tear her apart.

She doesn’t know what to do,
She is most confused.
Her heart is crumbling,
Her joy is diffused.

She doesn’t want to succumb,
To her terror,
But she doesn’t have a choice,
It’s too late to fix her errors.

She picked herself up,
She picked up every page,
She tore them into pieces,
Until only confetti remained.


She fled to the streets,
Away from her home,
The confetti in hand,
She ran alone.

In her eyes a sad gleam,
She ran and she ran,
‘Til she reached the shore,
Her mind span.

The pieces in her hand,
Of poems and lost words,
Of art long gone,
And music once heard.

She threw them in the sea,
The oceans endless depths,
Some floated and some sank,
But the memories were only left.

She sank into the sand,
But turned to face the sky,
She was burning with the memories,
And she began to cry.

“I am a poet no more,
And never again will,
Take me for what I am,
A simply lost girl.”

Kallista's Answer

What once was lost can be found
You are a poet,it always will be true
Your tears are priceless and saved in a jar
by one who cares and is never far

I have waited and others too
for your return, your companionship needed.
You are wanted and loved
a delight to be around.
It does not matter if you,
are happy or feeling down.

As long as you are here
I feel reassured,
I knew from the beggining
you were meant to be with us.

A girl who is both fragile
and yet so strong
Your wisdom is remarkable
your friendship, so delightful

I love when you are here
But I am sad when you are gone.
Torn between patience and eagerness
I await your return.

You have captured the hearts of many
a treasure you are to us
WE may not ever truely understand
the pain that you are forced to bare

But trust that we love you
and only want you to be happy
never will we laugh
at a soul who is beautiful and noble.

I can't hug you in person
but I do it everyday in my heart.
I give it to you and hope
that you will know I am there.

To listen or laugh with you is my desire
To see your works of art take flight
and your dreams to succeed.
I have faith in this and faith in you.

This is my attempt at poetry
it's clumsy and can not say
all that I had hoped
to help carry away your pain.

But know that I care
and others do too.
I lift you up daily
in prayer to my God.

I pray you find comfort.
I pray you find peace.
But most of all I hope,
That you know you are loved.

*forever hugs from the heart of Kallista*
Love you Quinn!


  1. Those were two remarkable poems!

    We very much care about you, and I'm terribly sorry you have to feel the way you do. Your writings are incredible and Fantastic! It's brilliant, truly.

    Very good poem, Kallista! I love how you replied to Quinn's with one your own. It was perfect!

  2. I think we all need hugs sometimes.

    *hugs everyone in a giant Mar hug*