Crisis
I am host to a siege carried out in my mind
I feel like the hostage and captor combined
I’ve been taken over by fragments empowered
I want to comply but I act like a coward
Feelings inside me have fed on my fears
suddenly living yet dormant for years
Rejecting my island in search of things better
I’m hurting my family and turning them bitter
I’m in a small boat far away from the shore
and so far away, I can see it no more
I’m tethered by rope and the rope is secure
but I know that I can’t stay out here anymore
I have in my hand the sharpest of knives
and to cut it will free me but damage some lives.
But I fear that I’d find with the passage of time
that the worst of the damage could happen to mine
If my hands pull the rope and I head back to shore
Will I even be welcome back there anymore?
And what if I go back and stem the blood flow
only later to damage much more if I go?
I’ve heard of the islands where the weather is great
but something inside says I’ve left it too late
My island is temperate, doesn’t suffer extremes
the ones that I look for are maybe just dreams
Maybe my island is something to cherish
or at least is a place where I’m able to flourish
Maybe those islands that bask in sunshine
have men, just like me, that lust after mine
© Andy(ArT)Trigg 2001
Written by Andy(ArT)Trigg on April 13th, 2008 with
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