I Write Poetry

Bent on the premise of nothingness I lay cradled against your bosom. Torn between good and evil I can no longer see that which I held so dear. You are my direction, my path. What has made this cloud before my eyes? It must be the tears of times past streaming down my cheeks. My cheeks stained with the wants and desires I have sought to have. Your heart calls to me with promises I crave to possess. You are my vision yet I hold to the hauntings of my youth. Am I destine to live in in the past? Can I move forward? Cradle me once again and feed my hunger with your mother’s milk. Feed me that I may hear your heartbeat and know your warmth. Feed me that I my know your taste and understand your tenderness. You are my reminder to live for today and put aside the foolishness of the past. You have wiped my tears.