Forever in the waiting,
and then at last the day is nigh.
You dress and leave the house
within a sigh. Knowing that
your fear is still alive.

Documented and admitted,
waiting for the knife to make its strike.
The surgery they say will save your life.
But looking back, the suffering
is all that you can see.

Pain pills calling up another dream.
Bringing back sweet memories
of days when agony was far away.
Remembering the energy that played
and flowed so lightly throughout your being.

You cannot find another way to see it.
Life as bright as loving needs to be.
Movements naught but fancy free.
As senses filled the needs decreed.
The soft, lush feel of grass upon your feet.
A springtime energy creating glowing
scenes of beauty everywhere.

Amid the pain, you cannot find it there.
There is no peace amid the suffering.
People that once called you friend
avoiding the sins your troubles brought
to light. No helping hands are reaching out.
No gentle kiss upon your weary brow.
No hand to hold to strengthen your resolve.

Gone, the days of future growing free.
Absent, all the shining reveries.
Dark, the sense of emptiness abiding.
Dreams held in your heart, but never born.
Forsaken for a sin never performed.
Life doesn't even pass you by.
You lie within your bed as if deceased.
The fear of death expanded and increased.

There's no one there, remembering your deeds.
For youth is all society now sees.
Wisdom etched through endless moments,
constantly deceived. Wealth and power
all they care to find in their release.

And there you lie, within their surgery.
Prepped and propped into a lying
sacrificial stance. The last you can
remember of the trance. Awaking
to an altering that bleeds itself to life.
Nerves crying out in agony where
doctors dared to slice.

Life will never be the same again.
You drifted past the borders of pretend.
Stood looking in a mirror of all you'd been.
And found the lack within the life you'd lived.
Love, oh love, remember me.
Else all I ever was - has never been...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .