a poem by Dale Costello, Australia - poetry writer, author, poet

Gone - without a choice
love born to know
truth of real emotion
a childhood
somehow - rarely spoken
in whispered tones
those manipulations remain
a hardy glaring stain
it is a journey letting go.

Anger and depression
vie complete
with a wonder dreaming sweet
this life
bent by the cruelest lessons
not a lovers game, no
the fuedal roar
of a family barely sane.

Twisted, no coloured spots
this loneliness
sits secretly and dressed
while love waits
combating a surly vacant hate
it is never true
what they have done to you
until both worlds stand confessed.

Jaded, this monastery of night
what becomes us early?
When all is blind and cold
which demon unleashes itself?
Does even sleeping fight?
Do we never let go?

Naked with emotion
born to a strangers gifted world
it is not the lies
well, maybe it is,
violence eventually departs
it is not the fear,
how long can we hold
shadows to our hearts?

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