Mama always said
Don't go throwing pearls
before swine.
One day in my life,
I finally got wise,
decided to go into silence.
One day in our lives,
I surrendered my time
& gave up the strife
way inside me.
When I realized
that you super-sized
the little mistakes
that you found on me,
I made up my mind,
to finally unwind,
to let my spirit be free
from all troubles.
& where are you now?
& what do you do?
& why did you never
pick up a clue?
I made up my mind,
& I realized
that love would never hurt
or try to hurt me.
& so it was done,
well, you had your fun,
now there you go,
pick up the pieces
if you like.
& why did you do
like you made out a brew
of hateful little subtle innuendo.
But I realized
that you had a mind
that only would control
try to undo me.
So now go with you dear,
be well, like I'm here;
I'm sure you won't
ever think to stop & try to miss me.
I made up my mind,
& I realized
that love would never hurt
or try to hurt me.
Author notes
Hi Sunflower, and hello audience. My option chosen is "Unsaid words." This poem goes dedicated to my younger little sister, who suffers from Narcissistic Personality Disorder and the influence of a Catholic cult, Opus Dei.
Sis, I still love you, no matter what we been through. I hope you will learn some day that I choose to live in the present. If this is the same with you, and I hope it truly is, then we should have no problem forgiving one another. Still, I hope and pray you and your family are all right.
I know I will be okay.
P.S. No the poem is NOT inspired BY my sister. It is based partly, very fractionally, on a life experience with a certain lover. My sister will understand, I hope. Won't you, sis?
A contest entry
- Winner Takes All Quickie by sunflowerpoet.
300 points, ended February 24, 2008, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
There will be a time when all shall be revealed. There will be a space for that which is concealed.
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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Well, wow.
I loved the feeling and depth of this write, especially the final stanza. You write with such power!
But I have to say, the contest is for poems of 20 words only, and it wouldn't be fair to the other contestants if I give a trophy to this piece. But I really cannot ask you to ruin this piece by reducing the word count, so shall I suggest that you remove the poem from this contest and enter another poem of 20 words, based on one of the prompts?
That said, this is a beautiful piece, which is even more precious as you have written it from your heart. I can relate to many of the lines here, from my own experience, and I truly wish your sister will find hope and healing, and would come back to your life.
Thanks for entering.
Hugz,
Sunflower. -
This was purely written and compleately advanced!
I just loved this poem... It was remarkable, and a haven of hope and truth! I cannot write like this, even if I tried, I could not write like this...
Well doen... A simply wonderful effort!
~ James ~
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I made up my mind,
& I realized
that love would never hurt
or try to hurt me.
words to live by-great write here, and one I needed to read today. Keep it up poet
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sweetness
wodrs cannot describe it
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Thank you, brother wh bybel
If words cannot describe it, tis okay for you to paint a picture.
A crayon drawing might do in a pinch. Amazing, what you can do with crayons when inspired, & when you have some decent paper.
John Tarik
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great write my friend.. i enjoy reading how you express your writes with life... they have the touch of reality.
well fix the typo "throwing" 1st para and "super sized"
best of luck my friend.. this write sure gives a lot to think
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as-Salaam aleikum friend, how are you?
Thanks for the courteous and honest commentary.
Yes, the Creator gives us life with which to live and share for the glory not of the individual but for Allah (the One G-d).
Hope you are well.
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Good!!
It's really nice. You're pretty good. I'm new here and don't have any views, could you plz read my poem Monsters in Spiritual? -
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Yeh, sure Poet, be glad to & welcome to AP
Thank you for the compliment. I would have responded sooner, but I'm sick as an old yella dog on a hot August noon. Going to do it, got you poem reserved for after the evening nap, friend.
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