The Shame.

Rearranging the pages of sights I have seen,

the child of my past has awakened in me.

She carries a journal,  my name on the cover.

 Addictions,   in bold print for others to see.

 

An habitual creature,  of instinct and  pride,

emotions held firm as the world stroll s by.

For growing awareness,   I forfeit tranquillity

 Let there be peace,      is my agonised cry.

 

like splinters of bone,  from the reapers scythe

 the plight of all victims bore into my skin

Yet still I must watch the rose petals unfurl,

in a world where a simple man never can  win.

 

Of loves there are many,  an infinite number.    

Butterflies, sweet dreams, endless blue skies.

The list is unending,  escape comes so easily.

Fresh laundered cotton  beneath naked thighs.

 

I know that I hide among home grown pleasures.

my freedom and safety  courageously earned

But the dead cannot see nature’s righteous grin  

The  shame on a page that is hastily turned.

 

 

Roan copyright. © June 2012

 

 

Reviews

[Kajal Gulabani]

This is a beautiful poem. Very deep and well put.

[shanara renee]

This is inspiring....I like the choice of words.