Poetry

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I stand tall,
Trying not to fall,
Knowing that God is my all in all.

In a secret place, there I am,
Silently, crying for those that are unknown.
Emotionless faces stare at me,
Confused - Alone, making their plea-
Someone please rescue me.

A child distances herself from those she love,
She deems that her faith in the man above is gone.
Day by day, she mourns her life,
Knowing that her father has killed her-
Causing her strife.
She watches her mother, restless in the night,
Pacing
Back and forth
Hoping
Desiring
For a life;
(Without the third person
The lonely nights
The harsh words)
A life that she deems good.
This child vows that alone she will be,
Holding the pains of her life as they kill her; silently.

A mother looks upon the face of her child -
A child about to bare her own.
Refusing to take the words that her mother imparted.
She sits unperturbed, taking everything for granted.
To those that look upon her aimlessly
I see a jovial spirit fade quietly.
Not knowing the next move, she will make,
She is looking to see if life will offer her any breaks.

On his deathbed a young man lay,
Gasping, for he knew not the exact day.
A bullet sought to send him to his grave,
A grieving mother stands brave.
No one knows the pain she feels,
Yet I see in her face the pain that she does not want revealed.

Hidden emotions,
Pain-filled hearts,
Eyes yearning to be read.
Lips that refuse to utter words,
Their spirits take flight in the wind like a bird

I pray, night and day
That I can help those suffering in every possible way,
To them I offer my words, my hands, my ears,
Trying to ease the pain that they bear.

In a secret place, there I was,
Wondering
Pondering
Questioning, the unknown.
Their pains I wished not to take,
At that time, I only wanted a break
A break from seeing and feeling their pains
I so effortlessly tried,
Until a wise woman said to me:
Daughter, you cannot let those wounded soldiers die.


Written By: Anishka Deveaux
October 4, 2003

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