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    MericCotton
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. 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. 

Pieces and Fragments - 6. innocence lost

WARNING: POSSIBLE TRIGGERS

very dark place right now

echoes of yesterday
mix with vibrations of tomorrow
bringing about the cacophony of today

and in the middle stands the child
hands over his ears

lips parted
in a silent cry
never to be heard

shadows
both past and present
sweet and bitter
weave at his feet

and in the chaos of the moment
innocence is lost to guile
and childhood to Pandemonium

undone
unfinished
unwanted

he weeps alone

Copyright © 2019 MericCotton; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. 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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Whoa....

 

I'm left wondering whether it's just a normal childish tantrum, or something much darker is taking place. The references to yesterday and tomorrow make the piece more mysterious, as does the word unwanted...

 

It certainly speaks to me, anyway.

 

Edited by Marty
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7 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

This poem has me recalling my own unhappy adolescence. You are not alone in the darkness. 

 

I am sorry to hear that - yet comforted.  I hope that makes sense.

Sometimes a friendly voice is strengthening - even when it's too dark to see - just to hear.

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31 minutes ago, Marty said:

Whoa....

 

I'm left wondering whether it's just a normal childish tantrum, or something much darker is taking place. The references to yesterday and tomorrow make the piece more mysterious, as does the word unwanted...

 

It certainly speaks to me, anyway.

 

 

Not a tantrum, certainly.  If it communicates - then it is a successful piece.  Art is typically "in the eye of the beholder" - I believe poetry is the same.  Thank you.

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A very powerful poem. In the middel standing an observation, surrounded by a web of time aspects. A very artful crafting.

This poem is so bitter and sad, but the sadness is seen, witnessed and communicated, therefor there is a little bit of hope in the web as well.

 

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10 minutes ago, Lyssa said:

A very powerful poem. In the middel standing an observation, surrounded by a web of time aspects. A very artful crafting.

This poem is so bitter and sad, but the sadness is seen, witnessed and communicated, therefor there is a little bit of hope in the web as well.

 

 

Thank you.  There is great release in sharing pain - just trying not to cause someone else pain makes it a bit trickier, I suppose.  I've noticed sometimes the darker the emotion, bhe more "craftful" the writing.  Not sure why ...

 

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1 minute ago, MericCotton said:

 

Thank you.  There is great release in sharing pain - just trying not to cause someone else pain makes it a bit trickier, I suppose.  I've noticed sometimes the darker the emotion, bhe more "craftful" the writing.  Not sure why ...

 

I think, you are right. Trying to describe pain is in deed a bit trickier as you said and therefor it needs more craftfulness. Being exact can be important, not to make someone else suffer under the pain as well and furthermore the craftfulness also grants a little safe distance needed for one self sometimes. Maybe sharing happiness and joy is much easier and safer.

Thanks for sharing this poem.

Lyssa

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