Circles Of Pain [rev.] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Circles Of Pain [rev.]

Used to cry hearing Ständchen, Schubert's Serenade,
which my mother played on the piano after tucking us
in bed; as a young child life seemed unspeakably sad
and I lay sleepless as the notes rolled over me

Later I played the Serenade - again waves of sadness
swallowed me - revisiting that meaningless time in life -
there was no love between my siblings and Mom, Dad
and Grandma Alice living with us;

The melody wove a patchwork onto which I projected
everything beautiful I had no access to - being a cast-
away without the will or power to find paradise, stuck
in this trajectory - moving in circles of pain…


[ORIGINAL: ]

I used to cry when listening to Ständchen, Schubert's
Serenade, which my mother used to play on the piano
after we were tucked in bed and life seemed to me - as
a young child - unspeakably sad; as I lay sleepless the
notes rolled over me - later I played the Serenade

And waves of sadness washed over me, reminding of
a time when life was meaningless as there was no love
between my siblings, Mom, Dad and Grandma Alice
living with us; the melody wove a patchwork on which
I projected everything beautiful I had no access to -

Being a cast-away without the will or power to find
any kind of paradise - stuck in this trajectory -
moving around in circles of pain…

[27 December 2014]

Sunday, December 28, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: feelings
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Patti Masterman 28 December 2014

Strange isn't it, how music is the hologram unlocks our past and makes it all accessible again?

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