The Sunday Muse
With stories of the happy princes and princesses
A childhood stagnated on a canvas of seamless fairy tales
There were moments when holding tightly to a little friend
Those tales belonged to another world.
Deep rooted fears erupted within those four walls
Waiting and trying to make some sense of the chaos
The loud noises, and the screaming voices
Shook the vulnerable heart, clutching on unshed tears.
There were days when inanimate expressions
Erased the lines of aching fear and broken dreams
How wonderful it was to have and hold
Someone who would listen, sooth and heal without uttering a word!
If one could have that same sense of security
In the waning evenings of a lifeless reality!
Participating in : The Sunday Muse
