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 Jan 2015 Katlyn Orthman
nica
"I'll make a picture of you" I told her
"Are you a painter?" she asked.
"No, but I can paint you in words" I answered
A princess stared at herself
Seeing no less but a forlorn girl
Locked up by fears and desolation
Teared up by agony and dread

She noticed something in her eyes
Saw nothing but full of fright
Tried to close the windows of her soul
'Coz she cannot handle reality anymore

A prince once knocked in her door
Tried to make her feel that she is not alone
'Twas a bitterly cold and rainy night
When she felt the warmness of his heart

The sun rose and struck her skin
She saw herself alone in the light
Seeing no less but her shadow's at bright
What happened was just her dream

Tears ran through her soft cheeks
She was hurt by the reality's tricks
What she felt was something real
But on the other hand, the moment was surreal

The princess stared at herself again
She saw a different girl chained in her heart
Tried to unleash the stronger side
I wish, she will be as strong as the mightiest tides
 Jan 2015 Katlyn Orthman
Curing
Oh, what a gift,
...Stopping time's flow.
Just to hold you forever,
...Without letting go.

...Racing and burning,
...Forever returning,
...I loved you each day sure as the Sun loves to fly.
...Rising to Day.
...Falling to Night.
...Forever returning,
...Till the day I should die.

Yes, a gift and a curse,
...Our lives but a verse,
...We dance through the stars, as around us they burst.

A bleeding heart,
A world apart,
By sunsets final glow.

Loves tender fruit,
Pure to the root,
Deep in my heart you sow.

Through misty mornings clouding sight,
Through frozen winter rain.
I know tis true...
it beats for you...
my heart and all its pain.
Do the heavens hear their cries?
How can they let these children slowly die?
I pray now spare them from agony
Sew their wings and set them free
For they are not slaves of poverty
But of souls unworthy of their sanity

A song for you my child
It is not your fault
You are not born to cry
A child is a child
Even if he sleeps in a bed of sweets
or in the busy streets
In your eyes pure innocence and love
In your hopes and dreams
you must fly like a dove
High as the angels above

Never will the sirens wake you
Never will the stones hurt you
Never will the cold bite you
For tonight you will not wake in fright
Rest in peace my child
The moon will swallow your woes
The stars will weave your dreams
And they will make you warm as you sleep



-Forgotten Angels, Margaret Austin Go
I dedicate this poem to all the homeless children. The abandoned and forgotten. The aborted children and the slaves of childtrafficking. Those children at war zones and children deprived of being a child. A blanket of love for all of you.
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