The Left Behind

by Jeanine G. Wilson

Everyday I remember those I left behind....
Each life I went through,
I left a part of me with them.
Each trial that I conquered,
each battle I lost written in memories
Everyday I remember those I left Behind...

Everyday visions of evil spells and permanent scars
cling to my mind in a battle of seduction vs. celibacy..

Each life a victims screams, rings, in my ears igniting tears,
caused by those wicked years, before..

Each life, I as a wife, or a mother, to a lover,
lost a secret or two or three some dignity and probably security..

Everyday I hope that I will understand,
my master plan, for each life I have traveled and I hope there is...

A reason for the changing of my bodily seasons,
for which I see no reason, sense I can not for bare off spring...

A reason for losing my mind, over and over,
in time fin-ding it in a moment of ecstasy,
losing it in a summer of passion.

A reason for the walk down the red road,
wearing a dress pure, pure, pure as snow, when I am not, won't can't..

A reason for being a minority, in all aspects of life,
look at me, I can name three, or more...

A reason, writing this poem, understanding life...

The Left Behind by Jeanine G. Wilson

© Copyright 2000. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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