For as long as I can remember, I’ve been writing. But what I can’t remember is when I stopped writing poetry. I can remember sharing my poems with someone who completely dismissed them. Maybe that was the moment. I honestly don’t remember. I do know that I’ve written less than 5 poems in the last 10 years. Maybe my inner poet is waking.
Tonight’s post comes from the lost files (AKA: my journals).

Soul Cries

Soul Cries weep streams that burn as they fall
not salty tears that release
but acid tears that erode.

Soul cries weep rivers of broken emptiness
flowing from far beneath
branching into bitterness, anger, and doubt.

Soul cries weep oceans
where life exists and currents dwell
and even the most noble
most amiable
most mature
are stripped
and frightened
and drowned.

Soul cries drown the noble.

©NaShieka Knight, May 2, 2000

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