Wednesday, 14 September 2011

Cruel?

Silently she watches me stumble
But as I receive her injuries
Trip, fall, and tumble
I always wonder, is it her superficiality?

A thin tight wand, it stings painfully,
Smacked across the hands of the misbehaved.
Yet I feel no pain from her delivery,
Swift, fast, and undelayed.

I cringe in fear instead of pain
But no tears come from my eyes.
Instead, blood leaks from my tear ducts twain,
In front of them flash my terrible lies.

Like a dying fish I gasp for air
She has me on her hook, I know.
Trapped forever in Life's dark lair
No matter what sounds I hear, the lark or the crow.

Foreign liquid splashes onto my hands
And the meat starts to sizzle in heat.
A rope around my wrist to bring me to foreign lands
For my heart, not hurting is a feat.

Dragged across the sand dunes,
Scraped and bleeding profusely
Sand that's washed from lunar moons
Shipped across the sea

Is life so cruel to be this way?
Does life have given tormentors?
People selected to train in May
and take it out on live specators?

Sometimes I don't know what the world thinks.
Sometimes my anger's too fueled.
But I do know this answer in chinks
Is life really that cruel?

2 comments:

  1. BB, that was a magnificent and terribly sad poem... It was written SO well! ~Hugs~

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  2. 'Dragged across the sand dunes,
    Scraped and bleeding profusely
    Sand that's washed from lunar moons
    Shipped across the sea.'
    These lines...oh how they paint such a hauntingly beautiful scene in my mind.

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