Damaging inner space, crying, filling it with crystal tears
at the thought of past memories.
Lost and forsaken upon a desert land, no tether to hold on
to, no hand to reach out to in a lonely specter of sand,
free of castles and pretend notions of imagination.
Sandwiched between emotions, not able to get out from them
and be free to choose another life's beginning.
Soundlessly living lies, brought on by a mother's past
mistakes, no judge nor jury, just blame placed upon a child
for a sin that was never hers.
Bottled up inside, wrecking havoc with reality, not able to
see beyond her mother's recalcitrant behavior through the
Yet, she has aged, grown old with a sensory perception of
herself at times as whole.
Still shaking like a child within, still filled with anger
for something she never did to deserve all the pain she's
had in her life.
Little Rose, a grown-up child, still seeking answers,
wanting to know why she's been put through hell for all
these years on earth.
(10: 17 p.m. - 2/20/11)