Somewhere under the layers of fear and doubt
there lies a feeling wild and untamed;
it moves me to tears, brings a smile on my face
speaks to me, but doesn't reveal its name.
It lifts me up;
it gives me life;
it invades my mind;
it is sharp as a knife.
It cuts through the heart
opening the vein,
allowing the blood to flow
Doctor can you mend the gaping wound?
No dear woman, its the man on the moon
who controls your ebb and your flow.
Don't you know
you are in the sea,
turbulent in love,
captured yet free?
How do I stop this rushing to shore?
Will the next wave bring me a cure?
The sea rolls on and sometimes it's rough.
It doesn't ask questions of when is enough.
So, like a shell you are shaped,
smoothed and refined;
there's no other like you
you are one of a kind.
Poetry by Kathy Lockhart
Read 1017 times
Written on 2007-02-02 at 20:19
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