I have been sitting here
lonely at the campfire.
I wrote a poem and I
have been reading it
and my eyes are swollen
from weeping.
A tear sprung from
my baby blue eyes
and I am split up inside.
My innards are crawling
and are festering
with pain.
How do I tell you
how I feel.
Love kept leaving,
and I was cringing
with fear of losing myself
along the way.
I looked into the flames
that rippled and smoked.
I felt that I must
throw caution to the wind
and destroy my words.
Sorrow seeped into them
and anger too.
I've got to do it.
I don't want him to see.
He can't read it.
It holds a secret
so lethal and deadly.
I've got to rid myself
of what this poem holds.
Do it now
or else face the wrath.
He might come back
and strangle me if he
found out what I wrote.
I can't let him see it.
I can't believe I wrote it.
But the confused daze in me
beckoned me to write it.
So now I hold out
my tired hand
and I tossed the
hurtful poem into the
orange brightness.
And suddenly gray,
then black, charcoal.
Flecks of paper floated
into the fiery depths
and suddenly nothing.
Nothing to bite back
and hurt.
Simply charcoal and dust.
Jennifer Jo Fay
Copyrighted February 2, 2012
A story poem. I might from time to time write poems of sadness too even though my life is great. I want to write poems that are going to touch anyone and provoke thoughts. It might actually help someone heal from something painful.
And actually long ago, when my life was in agony, I wrote stuff in anger and I did indeed throw things away. Some things are better gone. I wouldn't want my children to read some things. As it is there are going to be some hurtful things they will read someday, but it is my story of my life and a painful time, so they need to know when I am dead. But not now.
If you know anyone who likes paper dolls, check out my paper doll post on this blog and my other blogs. I have a post on each blog where they are for sale.
http://jenniferpaperdolls.blogspot.com/ The official Paper Doll Blog
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