PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

abuse hides a face full of many distortions

anger is but the sky upon which such rancid

venom flies

mine tormentor sees not the devastation he

creates

only my own reaction to such a mean unapologetic

quake

so many little jabs thrown

leaves me bleeding to death

one drop of lost blood at a time

and he remains ever blind to my widening wound

in his eyes I have no ground on which to stand

its like my love is a Palestinian in his Israel-esque heart

no war can right the wrongs of our age old

disagreements

so we must slither unpurposed on through the murky knowledge of

I'm too sensitive and he's too not

and never the twain on this matter shall meet

no matter how much I cry for a better mergence to

materialize

the horse often visits the water

but I just don't seem to have the persuasion

to make him drink.

so weary now beats my hope filled intentions

few days rest from words and retorts can only do

this butchered disillusionment of mine some good

so in your wisdom's great love Lord I take my

emptied rest

Melissa

(written April 19,2004 934 pm)