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    Headstall
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Headstall's Reflections - 25. Chapter 25 Forsake Me Not

Just a poem....

Headstall’s Reflections

 

 

Chapter 25 Forsake Me Not

 

 

Forsake me not,

For I am held together by shards of hurts

Accumulated over years

Kept moist by tears

Festered by fears

And cries no one hears

From memory that sears

 

You know not what you do

When you add your contribution

To the rips in my silk armor

I forgive you your ignorance

It’s no fault of yours

That I hide my devastation

Away from the light of day

 

I only allow myself to think

What I really should say

That I am not strong

And sometimes I feel wrong

Like I do not belong

As I walk through this throng

Sour notes in my song

 

Forsake me not

In my moments of need

You do not know the power you hold

To unloose the threads of my bindings

No hammer is needed to aid my crumble

Only a slight from you

Will topple me

 

That’s just the way it is

My illusion would be forfeit

And you wouldn’t even know it

Because I can’t say the words

I keep inside my heart

I won’t take the chance

I’d rather fake the dance

Thanks for reading....
Copyright © 2017 Headstall; All Rights Reserved.
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The content presented here is for informational or educational purposes only. These are just the authors' personal opinions and knowledge.
Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are based on the authors' lives and experiences and may be changed to protect personal information. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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This poem just made me want to weep, Gary. And even as sadness swept over me, I had to read it and re-read it, for it was so very well written. It had to be savored, even as a bitter or strong liquor is kept on the tongue. This reminds me how much I need to be the comfort and kindness for my friends, to bind up their silken armor (fantastic image), and treat their old wounds carefully. You call me to be aware, to be mindful, and to be ready with love to counter pain. Thank you for this, my friend.

On 09/23/2016 07:38 AM, pzetts3 said:

Beautiful and terrible Gary. Seems we can forgive everyone anything except ourselves. We are always stuck in the pain of our actions or our inactions; our decisions or indecision. We forget we are only as human as the next person.

Sometimes we are our own worst enemies, my friend. I know you understand that. The lengths we can go not to hurt someone, well, they have a cost. At least I have poetry to say what I can't out loud. Cheers, and thanks... Gary :hug:

On 09/23/2016 08:08 AM, Mikiesboy said:

Time ... how much do we have to mess around with? Play our games in? The author, whether this is autobiographical or not, needs to consider it. But ultimately do you give up and say this is my life or do you take the plunge? At some point we need to choose and accept.

Just what this made me think and feel.

tim xo

Thanks for your thoughts, tim. This poem is about friendship as much as anything. When we care, we give people the power to hurt us. Sometimes, they're are things we just can't say... it won't make things better... I don't mean to be cryptic... cheers, good buddy... Gary xo....

I thought I'd review this and the previous entries together, first because I missed it, and second, because they are sorta linked in my head.
How often have I said 'I'm fine', when I was far from it? It's far easier to say that than bring down your friends with how you really are--their concern may be genuine, but how often will they listen to words which spoil what has likely been a sunny day for them, and real joy at seeing you again?
And how often has the root of one's problems been the seeming disregard of someone close to us, intentional or otherwise? The person may not even know they've done something to bother us, we are so good at hiding our inner selves from those around us. For them, we are friends, but to us, there is a special spark which draws us together, but we won't say it out of fear, and they won't share their own spark for the same reasons.
Unless we speak, share our thoughts, dreams and aspirations with others, how can they know the impact of their actions on us, or we on them?
I recall a story by Jack Vance where the citizens of a world had their own personal leitmotiv playing, and it reflected their current moods...how much simpler would it be if we could hear the other person's music? Or where is a patch on our foreheads which changes color to show our emotional state at a glance--our own biological 'mood ring'?
No, we just have to muddle through, enduring the pangs of emotions we can only guess at, and wish for that personal connection that societies make so hard to forge...sigh.

On 09/23/2016 11:27 AM, Parker Owens said:

This poem just made me want to weep, Gary. And even as sadness swept over me, I had to read it and re-read it, for it was so very well written. It had to be savored, even as a bitter or strong liquor is kept on the tongue. This reminds me how much I need to be the comfort and kindness for my friends, to bind up their silken armor (fantastic image), and treat their old wounds carefully. You call me to be aware, to be mindful, and to be ready with love to counter pain. Thank you for this, my friend.

Thank you, Parker. Forgive them... they know not what they do. I don't like to hurt anyone, so sometimes, to avoid that, I hold my pain inside. Some of us are not as perceptive as others, and that's just the way it us. My struggles are no bigger than anyone elses... I'm glad you got what you did from this... it makes my baring worth it... cheers, my friend... Gary....

On 09/24/2016 02:21 PM, skinnydragon said:

I only allow myself to think

What I really should say

"And thereby hangs a tale" as some 'other' poet :) once wrote.

A very moving verse, Gary. Well expressed, but it all seems to hinge on your two lines quoted above, no?

Yes... you're right. Yet to say what I feel invites damage of a different kind. One of life's many dilemmas. I'm pleased my poem moved you... thanks, buddy... cheers... Gary....

On 09/24/2016 07:30 PM, ColumbusGuy said:

I thought I'd review this and the previous entries together, first because I missed it, and second, because they are sorta linked in my head.

How often have I said 'I'm fine', when I was far from it? It's far easier to say that than bring down your friends with how you really are--their concern may be genuine, but how often will they listen to words which spoil what has likely been a sunny day for them, and real joy at seeing you again?

And how often has the root of one's problems been the seeming disregard of someone close to us, intentional or otherwise? The person may not even know they've done something to bother us, we are so good at hiding our inner selves from those around us. For them, we are friends, but to us, there is a special spark which draws us together, but we won't say it out of fear, and they won't share their own spark for the same reasons.

Unless we speak, share our thoughts, dreams and aspirations with others, how can they know the impact of their actions on us, or we on them?

I recall a story by Jack Vance where the citizens of a world had their own personal leitmotiv playing, and it reflected their current moods...how much simpler would it be if we could hear the other person's music? Or where is a patch on our foreheads which changes color to show our emotional state at a glance--our own biological 'mood ring'?

No, we just have to muddle through, enduring the pangs of emotions we can only guess at, and wish for that personal connection that societies make so hard to forge...sigh.

You're quite right, CG. These last two are linked to a certain degree. We all keep part of ourselves hidden away, for varied reasons. In poetry, OI bare parts of myself I wouldn't otherwise. Thank you for this, my friend... cheers... Gary....

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