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Prodige Dec 2013
I am an angel with
a broken wing.
Wishing to return to the
good times but knows
it's impossible.

An angel who has had her
halo taken from her.
And with that-
her spirit.

God has blessed me with
a gift.
A gift that I am to
never take for granted.
But with all gifts,
there's a proce to pay.

The price paid was
the endless nights
of waking up.
Never again to relax.

Never again able
to go out and have
a good time because
I am the backbone.
The structure.
The mother.
This poem was written from the perspective of Gloria Martinez. A struggling mother in the book, "The Bronx Masquerade".
Prodige Dec 2013
What to do for I have no words?
I sit staring down into
oblivion.
Will I ever be able to
break th emental barrier to
which restrains me like an animal
in captivity?
Or shall I forever remain
in a world of dullness.

What to do for I have no words?
An urge inside tempts me to
begin my journey.
Yet with every choice, there is
a consequence-
With every move, there is
a mistake.
Maybe my time of deliverance
has not come.
Or maybe the constant bickering
of the world has brought
me to an endless introduction.

What to do for I have no words?
The barrier begins to deterrioate.
Allowing past experiences-
dreams-
memories.
Flowing like silk in the wind
without ever wanting to cease.
All arranging themselves in such
a manner that is too complex
to decipher.

What to do for I have found the words?
The answer to my prayers.
The satisfaction to which
I have been yearning.
But how does this quest begin?
I must put my pride aside
and just do it already.
So I start:
"Hi! My name is D'Onte!"
This poem was inspired by the difficulty it takes to even begin a life-changing quest. To take that first step towards happiness. To write those first words.

— The End —