The Past Poem by Concetta Salter

Curled by the fire, I look in the flames.
Hoping the heat could evaporate pain.
Reverie however, has yet to come forth.
All of my thoughts are to mangled to sort.
Mind you I’m trying, but still, I’ve no luck.
My past is my nightmare, I find that I’m stuck.
Still I can hear them, their taunts and their laughs.
All of the teachers once said it wont last.
Yet here I am dwelling on all that once was.
Guess I was foolish to give them my trust.
Why was I treated with such bad respect?
Why did they laugh at the way that I dressed?
Different was I, but did that give them right,
To start spreading rumors, and start telling lies?
I was the girl who thought stars held such joy.
They were the girls who thought joy lied in boys.
I was the girl who would love to read books.
They were the girls who were judging by looks.
Putting my hands above burning hot flames.
I find it does nothing but add to the pain.
Nothing can burn all this pain that I feel.
Why keep believing one day I might heal?
Forgiving is easy, forgetting is hard.
My life is on pause and I want to hit start.
Going to bed now, I kneel on the floor.
My hands pressed together, I pray to the lord.
Somehow, yeah someday, I know I’ll pull through.
Somehow, yeah someday, my past will not rule.