the hand you hold

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Tags:
  • Family
  • ,
  • Anger

    the hand you hold

    your hand feels so cold now
    when i try and hold it
    your soul, lays wasted
    why have you sold it?
    I kick and I scream
    like a child, abandoned
    all my life I have given
    what you say, I've been handed
    I gave all that I had
    because you had nothing
    your heart raped and alone
    in a world of suffering
    you blame them and hate them
    but you get through your days
    walking in circles
    building your maze
    laying each stone
    and digging up  ground
    you build a wall with your anger
    so that you won't be found
    It's the anger inside
    you cling to so tight
    you want to be saved
    but you don't want to fight
    I wonder in your mind
    who's fight this really is?
    Your Mother? Your Father?
    Your Sister? Your Kids?
    An illusion, this life,
    We create as we go...
    A hell you have made it
    seeds of hate you now sow,
    but the hate will not bud,
    in my mind or in hers,
    the hate is within you,
    it's not my hate, it's yours.
    it's not my dream you're dreaming
    it's not my hell you've made.
    It's not my voice that's screaming
    it's not my soul that fades,
    it's yours, my dear brother
    Please stop and believe
    this world that we live in
    is all we perceive
    it is all that we feel
    and it isn't at all!
    None of this is real,
    forget what you saw,
    forget what you've been through,
    forget what you thought!
    Forget all that anger,
    and revenge that you've sought.
    You're missing your life
    as each day, it unfolds...
    because your soul, it lays wasted.
    And your hand, it's so cold.

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    Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

    Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.

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