Saturday, November 17, 2007

Poem #3

I think it's getting worse rather than better.

Loving

Soft, compliant tension
takes hold.
Filled
beyond knowing.
Emptied
of myself.
Replaced
with knowledge
never learned in school.
Caring
never felt
at mother's hand
or father's knee.
Acceptance
of what I am
and was.
Pride
for what
I
will be.

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