wound around inside.
Becoming substance that divides
the best intentions into hurtful deeds.
Hidden deep within their will
of utter, inner need.
that blast of energy.
Spent on those ne'er called their enemies.
No ego there, no will that might relieve
the tendency. Reaching out beyond
and yet within the bounds they call
reality. Thinking up another lie,
defining them as only right and good.
another falls, unthinking,
into the chasm of their greed for more.
A neediness left unfulfilled.
It happens in the mist of their unknowing.
And there, where they insist
the path they're going down
must somehow be made real.
for a moment that's surreal.
Held within their mother's arms again.
Pretending that society had never
forced such trends into their minds.
Wishing for a kind and loving
world to live within again.
that blows within the wind.
Responsibility that longs to take to flight.
Hovering between the right and wrong
of every song they ever dared to sing.
- how strong is this emotion...?
Unable to engage in any motion.
Awakening to wakeful reveries.
Living yet again their memories
of long forgotten happiness.
Where all the world intermeshed
within a mother's love...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .