I can be reckless
my words emptied on empty paper
no longer white but black
yet, my mind turns green
and blue and peaceful

you, who are you?
return my thoughts, no thank you
i wash my hands of the ink stains
reminders of the holocaust
what remains painted somber

I stand before
a mighty oak refuge
pray, bury me in wisdom
show me a door to escape
where truth is gladly welcomed

you, who are you?
decide my words to digest
and spit out the rest
do not look back or fear
the sword I carry on my back


Memoir Poetry

4 Comments Leave a comment

    • I believe what every person who writes wants to hear at some point in their endeavor to put in words their perception and seeing. What a pleasure to connect with another and to think introverts are often afraid to reach outwards. Thank you for encouraging words…I suppose in ways we do minister to our own souls but what an impact to know we connect with others, if only in words. 🙂 Happy writing, J

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