RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Carpets Of Rage
Carpets of rage kept down over memories, hidden away in
cocoons, never brought to light.
Barriers seen, touched, fearing the desire to break through
and see who I am, lightly forsaking the brevity of emotion
for quiet instead.
Sandstones rubbing minds, lying in puddles of blood,
memories strewn haphazardly about.
Concentrating, the way out of this chamber is difficult to
find and sometimes get lost for hours.
Hurting, saddened by what is seen, tracing symbols from
pockets of remembering.
Licensed unwanted betrayers of life, reluctant to let go of
their own pleasure for that of an innocent child.
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