The Grass is Black/The Air is Pink


feel me/read me/follow me

Ten Years Later

it was ten years ago
that I was born
and the death came
I could believe now
that it was some sort
of a sacrifice

I was not okay then
and I sure am not now
I move, I dance
I cry, I scream,
to read, to write

yes, I’m watching closely
and paying attention
as best as I can
but, I ask you
who’s looking out for me…?
who’s there to pick me up
when I fall?
who’s there with a solution
to MY problem?
who’s shoulder can I cry
on in the middle of the street?

I found myself paralyzed
by my fear,
by my sadness
by my failures
and a complete fool
for the small thread
of hope that I cling to

written: October 30, 2010


Filed under: life, regarding myself, Uncategorized

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