by Amy Megsin | |
Published on: May 20, 2005 | |
Topic: | |
Type: Poetry | |
https://www.tigweb.org/express/panorama/article.html?ContentID=5594 | |
So I sit. Scarred eyes In the blackness. I stare into the hole Knowing not of the Colours I knew before. I know no life No beauty or joy. Only blackness. A hole created By brash hands. And harsh words. Hands that once Caressed with love, Now beat with hatred. In this hole I see The truth of my naiveté Where once I was blinded by your love. So I turn from the darkness And walk from your Swaggering figure. And I turn to the light. So long have I been without, It hurts my eyes. But I walk still And leave not as a victim To the ways of your hands. Never a victim. Always and forever, A survivor. « return. |