PRECIOUS SOUL


The man you see isn't me.
It's just an illusion to fool thee.
Inside I'm just a lonely child,
that's been abused and exiled.

I'm trying hard to be someone else.
I guess I have had to many farewells.
It's hard to let go, to watch something die.
I have even told myself goodbye.

The mask I wear is made of dreams.
But hope is never what it seems.
I lost my way inside this role.
Can you help me find my precious soul?



Poetry by Daybreaker
Read 525 times
Written on 2007-02-03 at 00:10

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Dan Cederholm
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Very well written here . . .

The problem is to move on again . ..

All the best, Dan

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2007-02-03


kath
so soft your words tells of this sorrow ... and when I read I have a feeling the person of the poem is realising that the child inside is there for him to take care of ... letting the child rest in the arms of the person now grown up ... still hurting but having the possibility to let hurt be seen ............... that is what I read ..and your poem had a very nice flow ...


regards kath
2007-02-03