This poem has been submitted for possible publication.  It will be reposted as soon as possible upon final determination.  Please feel free to peruse my poesy at your leisure.

Thank you so much,
PrttyBrd

Daddy, why are you hitting me?
It really hurts now, can't you see?
you are putting me in pain,
these secrets I hold I can't contain.
I am only four
there goes another glass you pour.
put the bottle down,
get yourself together, stop acting like a clown.
I just wanted your love, but my heart has a different kind of beating.
The kind of beating that's physical and full of shame,
daddy I am done playing this game.
who's that girl, what happened to mommy?
as you are seducing that girl right here in front of me.
I see your done too...
you move away
to become "clean" so to say.
those new kids of yours, sure love their dad.
do they know about the past you have had?
you don't hit them like you hit me?
you don't drink or smoke like you did when I was three.
I just wanted your love and affection
but you give it to someone else, why make corrections?
Do you still remember me, rememeber us?
the wife and kids you left in the dust?
Daddy, why'd you have to leave me...
leave me with this secret I can't tell anybody.
Mommy doesn't suspect a thing,
I am keeping the secret like you told me.
but if anybody asks,  I shall tell.
about the time I lived in hell.

Love comes in different shapes and forms
smells and looks
It hits slow
creeps up on you
like a fish-hook

It's good, great
Like a piece of cake
double yummy chocolate chip plate !

Life is good with love in your path ...
your steps are lite
the world is bright
stars are huge, like your heart

It makes your spirits soar
your laughter roar
smiles are wide
the world is bright

Best feelings in the universe
if you can hold and harvest its worth

Which man or woman hasn't been dumped
like a pile of garbage in a slump

It comes as a surprise; but, if we are honest -
we saw it coming, - just that -
with anything in life -
Denial rushes in ! - Full Force! -
to block the tunnel ("vision")

Hurt, bruised, mouth agape with speech-less fright
I'm loosing my soul-mate !
Oh my, what a night

Years were spent building this Fort
of love, trust, tears of delight

Then; as you look on...
the walls of your Fort come tumbling down!

Crying, mourning, bent, broken, your ears are ringing
with the sounds of those words you dread hearing!

"Babes, I'm moving on; It's not you; It's me;
You a good person - BUT " !

In tears of turmoil and inner rage
hanging on to your dignity becomes a chore

You pick your lips up off the floor
brace your feet
dry your tears -
cry no more

Accept their denial of your hard, founding love
Open the door - let them go ...
grieve, loose confidence, get depressed -

Because you loved them so ...

A Styrofoam box to hold my pain
To keep it safe above the water
To hold all the roles I've ever lived
Be it wife or be it daughter

Floating safe upon the surface
Mirror smooth or rapids white
It carries all the hurt and struggle
It hides my truth and holds on tight

The world can see the love and laughter
The spackled mask that faces all
The one with saccharine filled open fissures
Hiding a broken little girl

For in this body of a woman
Every gentleman's sinful lust
Is a fragile shell of being
A soul, if touched, would turn to dust

Drowning in a world of wonder
Losing sight of who I am
Safe from harm or dissolution
Floats the proof that I'm a sham

Recently,
her mind is
debating
with her heart
resenting
every word
she wasted
on this paper
and all the metaphors
you haven't even decipher
but how
can she stop it
you have brought her up
to the top
then pushed her
to this
bottomless pit
now
she's stuck
in this drop
and it's growing
big
like
a bad habit
running
like
a mad rabbit
munching
on her thoughts
of you
while trying to
remove your face
off the view
like grime
on her tiled walls
made by
endless waterfalls
of whys and what ifs
and all her selfish beliefs
like
how you will read
her poetry
and chew the words
like sticky pastry
but her mind said
"you're wasting your ink"
she should stop writing
poems about you
and let her
memories
sink
in the letters
of your name
that are scattered
in her head
all printed
in heavy lead
therefore now,
she concluded,
the real dilemma,
to wake her up
in this coma
of dreams of you
and
find
a paper
that will reach miles
across the equator



-I Should Stop Writing Poems About You, Margaret Austin Go