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 Oct 2016 gwen
Hannah
When I was a child,
I made choices
that changed
my life forever.
These choices,
I realize upon reflection,
were devious in nature.
Very few
have come to understand
my reasonings
for such promiscuous acts.
When these acts came to light,
I was in my senior year
of high school.
Make no mistake,
these normally happy times,
were the worst days of my life.
Day in,
day out.
I endured silent stares,
snickers,
torment to extremes
no child should bare.
I hit rock bottom
before the age of 18.
I felt I could no longer
show up to school,
eat,
or,
love myself ever again.
Silently,
I turned inside myself.
I became so distant,
so numb.
Just when I thought I was finished,
and could no longer go on,
something peculiar
began to stir in the
depths of my soul.
I tapped into a well
of endless love.

I began to realize my path
in life would never be easy,
but,
I knew it would all
be worth it one day.
My choices at this fragile age
humbled me in ways
my peers would never understand.
I started showing up to school
with my head held high.
I had already endured
the worst of my pain.
And from that pain,
I pulled power.
By human nature,
we are attracted to
what we do not understand.
Not even I understood who I was
during this period of my life.
I thought I was hated,
despised,
by anyone and everyone.
But,
I soon discovered that I was wrong.
I was not hated
for what I had done.
It seemed it was
quite the opposite.
By nature,
I am accepting to anyone
who crosses my path.
This seemingly simple
fact completely contradicts
the decisions of my past.
I make people think.
How could she have done
something so out of character?
To this very day,
I have never been asked
directly about my past.
I find it quite fascinating.
After 3 long years,
No one has had the courage to ask,
"Why"?
So,
I have never given an answer.
I am waiting for the day
someone finally breaks the ice.
When they do,
I will simply ask,
*"Why do you think I did it"?
 Oct 2014 gwen
Isha Kumar
I met her once
a little, blind girl
who had let me
inside her wonderful world.

Yes, she couldn't see,
the girl with eyes bright.
Yet, she loved her world
like she never lost her sight.

She heard the music
of the breeze that blew.
The love for her world,
it only grew.

She acquainted me with
that music she heard,
from the buzz of the bees
to the chirping of the birds.

Yes, she couldn't see
the wonders of life.
Yet, she smiled
without a sign of strife.

She had beautiful eyes
filled with wonder.
I stood speechless and thought
how could God make such a blunder?

She danced and sang
with a graceful twirl.
How she loved her life
the little, blind girl.

She smiled and laughed,
her face filled with joy.
With wonder in her eyes,
she was serene, yet coy.

She felt her world
beneath her tiny fingers
and on me left a mark
that would forever linger.

Yes, she couldn't see
the life that she felt.
Yet, she never showed
the sorrow that she dealt.

Her world was dark.
Yet,  she saw
the Earth's true form
pure and raw.

Yes, she let me in.
But I couldn't overstay.
So, I excused myself politely
and quietly walked away.

I had met her once
a little girl who couldn't see.
Yes, she was a child
but the happiest there could ever be
Probably one of my best works. I'm pretty proud of it. ^_^
 Oct 2014 gwen
SøułSurvivør
far
 Oct 2014 gwen
SøułSurvivør
far
~~~


do not go
far

past pale
mountains
where
shadows lurk

for you
have further
to go
you have more
time
you have more
work

all
have bones
with
cracks and
poison
shards

dying is
easy
grief work
is
HARD

we
press
our faces
to the
rotting
glass

and
only hope
and
wonder if
this too
shall pass

is the
boulder's press
on the
shoulder blade

better
than clotted
earth
from
spades
~?~

but tho
the world
be a
gloss
and
painted black

the
colors
still
GLOW

benieth
shellac

take
the knife
you'd use
in vain
to

faint

scratch
the surface
PEEL
the
PAINT

there's
a
RAINBOW
beneath
dark rust

you can find it
in
lunar
dust

finally
through
all the
shifting sands
of years

you'll find
it was
reflecting

through

your

TEARS




soulsurvivor


~~~­
For all those who grieve.

Though life seems to have
Lost its colors
It is the very waters of grief
That become

PRISMS
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