PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I took a walk down memory lane,

to see what I could find.

But there were so many paths to walk down,

so many doors to my mind.

~

Each path had a sign,

of what lie ahead.

Each path a different direction,

to this map inside my head.

~

I figured I had time,

to stroll down each one.

So I picked the first path,

with a sign that had #1.

~

I was only but a baby,

almost the age of one.

I almost didn’t have daddy,

when my life had just begun.

~

Mommy wanted to go away.

Daddy wanted her to stay.

So in spite of how she felt,

she stayed with him anyway.

~

The fights kept getting worse,

as I got older I’d cry in my bed.

Even when the fighting stopped,

the screaming echoed in my head.

~

The second path I took,

had a black and blue sign,

with over grown trees at the foot,

this was a secret of mine.

~

Suddenly I flashed back,

to about the age of five.

Hiding in the corner,

praying for my life.

~

His footsteps got louder,

my tears only grew,

the door knob turned,

and suddenly I knew.

~

Things wouldn’t be the same,

another bruise to hide.

I tripped while I was running,

they’d never know I lied.

~

I’d have to go home,

and pretend what fun I had.

How do you tell your father.

these bruises are from YOUR dad?

~

I snapped back into it,

back into my memory land.

The next sign I found,

had a picture of a hand.

~

Laying in the dark,

I remember the locked door,

and thinking to myself,

please God, no more.

~

I couldn’t defend myself,

I was only a child.

He was  drug addicted fool,

out of control and wild.

~

He probably doesn’t remember,

but I will never forget.

I’ll always feel dirty and gross,

no matter how clean I get.

~

I brushed away the tears,

and continued down the line.

The next sign had a cloud,

black with no sunshine.

~

8th grade year,

the worst of my life.

I encountered so many things,

but my new best friend became a knife.

~

My mother left my dad.

I was forced to go with her.

If only he knew the pain,

the manipulation that occurred.

~

To top it all off,

two friends of mine died.

One left alone bleeding,

the other, from suicide.

~

I couldn’t take much more,

I just wanted to die.

Then my Auntie Jean passed away,

and I didn’t get to say goodbye.

~

I started getting high,

it led to other drugs.

Soon I became detached,

from the rest of the world I unplugged.

~

So many memories,

and so much pain.

I don’t think I can take,

remembering these things again.

~

One more path,

and then I’m done.

But there are so many,

my God which one?

~

I looked at the signs,

and found the right one.

But as I looked at the path,

it had only just begun.

~

My heart lay there,

just in front of a door.

Maybe now I’ve found,

what I had been searching for.

~

Could it be happiness?

to mend my broken heart.

Or maybe an erasers,

so I can go back to the start.

~

I venture on,

taking each step slow.

I’m anxious and want to run,

but also don’t want to know.

~

I started walking forward,

but my heart moved away.

I guess I’m “following my heart”

as people would like to say.

~

I slowly turned the doorknob,

not knowing what could occur.

But when I opened the door,

I found love, there you were.

~

Happiness filled my heart,

I’ll never be the same.

I’m so glad that I decided,

to take a walk down memory lane.



~*~ Jill ~*~