untitled poem -
the wonder of the moments when i reflect,
to see the pain inflicted through my introspect,
i wonder how we hurt each other every time we speak,
from that which was the gifted truth of what it was we seek,
and yes, its sad that each of us desire to just hurt,
toward the other quickly with a word that cuts with curt,
we say, "oh this and that to you" because its what so aches,
and neither of the pride inside can break down all our quakes,
so run away to distant lands and hope it starts anew,
and rationale and thinking through say this just wasn't true,
ironic is the thing that has just shown itself to shame,
that what is known inside of us leaves just ourselves to blame,
that wanting it in quiet hope for years that have all passed,
and throwing off the things we know cuz well, it couldn't last,
still when it is all just said and done will You see us restored?
or was this just to find ourselves still stripped of the reward,
so now we hurt and medicate with what it is we know,
and hurt ourselves so spiritually by what we choose to sow,
for ego, pride, and anger rage, in every moments lust,
to think we purge it from our hearts with our own self disgust,
but later still, we feel again the thing that we have lost,
too proud to bend and cry as one and rework all the cost,
its sad that pride is why it is that we can't stand so strong,
toward some hopeful distant thing we can not hope to long,
so sure, lets say it wasn't real and hold our heads up high,
cuz to ourselves in everything we've learned to proper lie,
as what we have is gone for good, and dreams have washed away,
cuz we're too proud to face again and risk again to sing.
In this God i will thank you much that i can still forgive,
and live with arms wide open cuz its by You that i live,
for her? well rage is faster just and claiming this and that,
instead of leave the reasons why and stand firm and stand pat,
its odd that this which tasted us was easily destroyed,
that filling up our hearts this time can't quench the empty void,
so drink, and sex, and drugs for us, to help us carry on,
with empty aches that trap through pride forever of this gone,
So now i wonder in the quiet moments of the heart,
Does it still hurt for you as well, are you still torn apart?
For me, well it is sad indeed that we're so much alike,
And hurt each other faster to enable us to hike,
Now in a perfect world of what we both know is right here,
we'd hold each other firmly trying trust throughout this fear,
Of course eutopia is not on this blue ball where we do live,
So opening it just once again is too much for to give.
So Lord I ask that you will true forgive us both this thing,
And over time restore to us rememberance - this wing,
For I have one wing, as does she toward a full embrace,
Remembered in the future of a moments last disgrace.
James Mendham 10:57am May 06, 2005
Permalink | posted by James Mendham @ 10:36 a.m. |
 
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