One of Those Lost and Lonely DreamsTime was, when I thought it strong,
to hold back and block all my feelings.
Inestimable the emotional devastation
I doled out on those unfortunates who loved me.
How can you dam it up so?, said the therapist's stare,
still her empathy opened my mind to smiling,
chiseled my heart from the glacier.
And slowly I learned to act out my dreams,
the wounded clown learned to cry.
Pride bled in the thickets of human intercourse.
Now, when I dream of life, I am perfectly amazed,
my singular life drawn to those who loved me regardless.
Poetry by Brian Oarr
Read 564 times
Written on 2012-06-18 at 22:51
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