deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wounded
Wounded...
In a way that cant be explained
some where deep
undereath folds of memory
when I sleep..
they silently assault me
Wounded...
In that place that stunts growth
and causes me to remain...
A womanchild....as I camouflage
My pain..
when the child in me cries
The woman in me has to remain
sane
As I patch my past up with new moments
In life...trying to stretch these new
events over wide open gashes in my soul
I realize... without proper care
My spirit will get an infection
The child in me has no where to run
and the woman in me is tired...
she can not offer protection
This womanchild seeks solace...
and a new direction
because I dont know who it is I see
when I look at my own reflection
The desire .. and the need to be understood
takes over....I need to be understood
More than I need a friend...Or a lover
True understanding...
is the only thing that will help me recover
For my past pains ...I've paid too high a cost
As the essence of me is shivering...and lost
There is no fond image of
the past for me to hold on to
As I take hold of the child within my soul
I ponder...now what will we do...
In a way that cant be explained
some where deep
undereath folds of memory
when I sleep..
they silently assault me
Wounded...
In that place that stunts growth
and causes me to remain...
A womanchild....as I camouflage
My pain..
when the child in me cries
The woman in me has to remain
sane
As I patch my past up with new moments
In life...trying to stretch these new
events over wide open gashes in my soul
I realize... without proper care
My spirit will get an infection
The child in me has no where to run
and the woman in me is tired...
she can not offer protection
This womanchild seeks solace...
and a new direction
because I dont know who it is I see
when I look at my own reflection
The desire .. and the need to be understood
takes over....I need to be understood
More than I need a friend...Or a lover
True understanding...
is the only thing that will help me recover
For my past pains ...I've paid too high a cost
As the essence of me is shivering...and lost
There is no fond image of
the past for me to hold on to
As I take hold of the child within my soul
I ponder...now what will we do...
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