Here is a little poem I chewed out, to help me clear my mind.
It just rattles out, like regurgitating my struggle. I wouldn't know if the poetry is any good. To me the imagery helps me feel my loss and the power of my feelings.
- Walt


Fallen

Fallen past the angels once regarded friends
to the sky blue as inner flame
back to the world once known and loved
to the land, the shores,
and the homes of the men, women and children,
and to the schools, and institutions to which
we now cling, now changed.
Running from nature into realms of protection
hiding from the angels except within hope.
And yet for what is within me remembered,
knowing everything for what it was
and nothing about the darkest secrets in the breast.
As a child, floating up, to sit with the angels,
above the sky, in white and yellow,
amongst the aged trees and wild surf, and warm wind,
and the touch of love,
silent, knowing, life spirit.
Fallen can't be so bad, if I can seek the same,
the past and the future,
avoiding knowing just how dark we are, I can be.
The little bit that I hold onto,
the little bit that shines anew,
likely not enough for long,
I do not glow or shine,
mine is not a radiance, but a glimmer,
and may not be enough to light my way,
back to the angles and the warm light,
the glowing of life in my breast,
and the friends I once shared in nature.

- Walt

Man this was a hard read. I had to read it a dozen times to wrap my head around it. Nice piece of work. I really liked it but geeze you made me work hard :+)

Sorry about the poem being abstruse,
but isn't it like that, being who we are,
remembering our lives as children before the abuse,
the mental place the abuse put us in,
the struggle through life in denial,
the awakening, and the shock of realization
the memories coming as from no where to haunt us
when we least expect them,
and then the longing for that missing childhood,
I guess I can't get my head around it,
so the poem conveys my confusion as well.
I guess if I worked at it some more, it might
begin to create a pathway for thought, from beginning to end.
But I never believed poetry should be easy,
rather, it might reflect just what life is.

anyway, i hope to try again. and i hope you will try again as well.
thanks for replying.
- Walt

Oh no Walt,
You misunderstood. I liked the fact you made me work hard. That's what made it so interesting. I'm sorry that I wasn't clear.