~ Loneliness ~
From the very essence of my living
Is pulled the rough substance of my being,
And I groan deep inside with a screaming
As if to scratch from the darkness a seeing.
Thrown onto the hot pavement it crackles
As helpless I sit here in these shackles,
Listening to what seems like rude cackles.
For the absence of a love becomes crude
As even the furniture seems to brood,
While the heart attempts to become shrewd.
And the shackles become even tighter
As one's essence crackles even brighter,
Struggling so hard to become a fighter.
Upon the pavement, I watch its slow glow,
Shackled as I ponder what I do know:
That my way it will never again blow.
I leave the ashes of my essence there,
Shielding a blood-curdling scare--
Attempted to cover my heart laid bare.
To claw and scratch in this darkness weary
Becomes a task that makes each day dreary,
That at the day's end leaves the eyes teary.
For a vacancy never before filled,
Is a vacancy that cannot be drilled,
A vacancy that won't be taxed and billed.
But once the room is filled, then vacated . . .
And with the drilling was fabricated,
Then the deep hole can never be placated,
When two hearts--once one--are separated.
by M.G. Maness, February, 1993
3rd poem of 7 in my book PreciousHeart-BrokenHeart
with these and in order of appearance (click & see them):
1- What Kind of Wanderer
5- Hope-Trip of a Broken Heart
6- The Dirge
7- Beyond the Black Oak Wood Door
~ Click Here to e-mail me at: MG@PreciousHeart.net ~