Page: Profile: Poetry
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VxPoem ID: 28801
Posted: June 4th. 2007 4:27:56 PM
Age Group: Adult
A string tied around my finger
Meant as a constant reminder
A roster of names tattooed on my memory
Lest I forget
The one whose wall would not tumble
The one whose fear governed their love
The one who took what was not given
The one to who mistrust was a saving grace
The one to whom deception was a virtue
The one who preyed upon my weakness
The one who turned a blind eye
The one whose apathy shadowed their heart
A sharp pointed finger
Like an arrow to their hearts
“Remember Me”, I thought
Laying a curse upon them
Let them suffer as I do
Let them suffocate in their guilt
Let me not be so insignificant
As to not have had an effect on them
As they have had on me
And with those thoughts a seed was planted
Whose harvest was but a plague
Invoking a festering so consuming
There was room for nothing more than itself
My sharp pointed finger had three behind it
Aimed at my own heart
My wall would not tumble
Fear governed my love
Mistrust was my saving grace
Deception was my virtue
I preyed upon others weakness
I turned a blind eye
Apathy shadowed my heart
I suffocated in my own guilt
My pain had taken up the spaces
Where their misdeeds had lived
Filling in the cracks with regret
My heart had become a small, locked box
Nothing could get out, nothing could get in
And though some could pick it up and shake it
They would only hear the tinkling of broken glass
Then one bright and sunny day
As light shone upon the rest of the world
Only then did I realize that my world was dark
That I had brought the darkness with me
That I had carried it with me all along
And in the struggle had lost my heart-shaped box
I felt my way through the blackened terrain
Tripping and falling over forgotten memories
Searching for my small, locked box
A light flickering here and there
Illuminating the darkness for moments at a time
Just long enough catch a glimpse of my small, locked box
The light lasted longer and longer each time
A rushing of wind in my face as I searched
And a distant noise, not unlike that of a beating drum
Suddenly, there at my feet
Lay my small, locked, heart-shaped box
This box did not have a lock
And this box did not tinkle with glass when shook
But thumped like a beating heart
A light emanated from it, keeping the darkness at bay
A rushing of wind forced the lid open
And there, on a little silver tag, was my name
And all became clear…
The light that led me through the darkness had come from this box
My heart-shaped box
No longer small and battered
No longer locked but wide open
No longer filled with broken glass, but mended and whole
And in this no less than miraculous moment
I envisioned the faces of those I had pointed my finger at
And realized they were just like me
Damaged and broken
Hurt and afraid
Distrusting and cynical
Sad and angry
Regretful and guilt-ridden
Resentful and unforgiving
And capable of atonement
If only they’re willing to search the darkness
For their heart-shaped box
~May 23, 2007
Author's Notes: Copyright 2007~Shawnee R. Kircher~Please do not copy or reproduce in any form without express consent of the author.
Author's Location: Land O' Lakes, Florida
More Poems: Shawnee has posted 49 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Shawnee - Click HERE
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