The Past

the past has its way with me,
haunting my nights,
it finds the deepest recesses
of my unquiet mind;
planting seeds of doubt
it leaves me to wonder
at what I was,
if I’ll ever be free -

I know:
the past is passed,
I must let it be,
process its hurts,
forgive myself the pains,
but understand it made me,

and there’s no one else
I’d rather be.

Share

Paralyzed

insulated from the world,
I have kept myself
in a cocoon of safety -

I see injustice,
I see persecution,
racism, bigotry, violence,
poverty, devastation,
I see war,
I do nothing -

I rail against it
in my mind,
and with those of like belief;

I take no stand,
I send no money -
I remain silent,
insulated, safe
as the world burns -

           its fire will warm
           until it consumes all
Share