| This poem is a very private poem that I wrote when I was 17 years old. It is now 10 years later and this poem may be disturbing to some. I know it is to me sometimes when I read it. This poems expresses all my fears and feelings as I grew older and about my life at the time. Enjoy! |
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| The Lighter Side of my Darker Shade |
| The Lighter Side of my Darker Shade |
| This poem is a very private poem that I wrote when I was 17 years old. It is now 10 years later and this poem may be disturbing to some. I know it is to me sometimes when I read it. This poems expresses all my fears and feelings as I grew older and about my life at the time. Enjoy! |
| This poem is a very private poem that I wrote when I was 17 years old. It is now 10 years later and this poem may be disturbing to some. I know it is to me sometimes when I read it. This poems expresses all my fears and feelings as I grew older and about my life at the time. Enjoy! |
| This poem is a very private poem that I wrote when I was 17 years old. It is now 10 years later and this poem may be disturbing to some. I know it is to me sometimes when I read it. This poems expresses all my fears and feelings as I grew older and about my life at the time. Enjoy! |
| Pain in my heart. Love in my soul. Harder to part when love takes it's toll. Want to be free from all of the strain. Hard to be me. Try to be sane. Facing the crime that's hurting a lot. Giving me time to learn what I've taught. Friends give and take for comfort unknown. Friendships may break with hurt left unsewn. Cracks in the walls. Holes in the floors. Heading for a fall. Running for a door. Turn on a light. Searching the ground. Nothing in sight. No answers are found. Feelings of fright, confusion and hate. Digging for night. Choosing my fate. Shallowest brook. Taking a dive. Leap before look. Buried alive. Every space white. Every note black. Every song right. Advice on 8-track. The color of bloom. The feeling of death. The scent of doom, left on one's breath. Crying in rage. Stories to tell. Turning a page in your stairway to hell. Life in midstream of ease and stray. Something obscene. Man must obey. Helpless aloof. Needing a hug. Fingerless proof without any drug. Age with power. Roomless respect. Countless advice. Rid of neglect. Bleeding berries. Sacrifice some. All sufering varies. Too much of Rum. Some foreign cool when times are right. Got to be a fool to lose your height. Caroline Roschuk March 1995 |
| Pain in my heart. Love in my soul. Harder to part when love takes it's toll. Want to be free from all of the strain. Hard to be me. Try to be sane. Facing the crime that's hurting a lot. Giving me time to learn what I've taught. Friends give and take for comfort unknown. Friendships may break with hurt left unsewn. Cracks in the walls. Holes in the floors. Heading for a fall. Running for a door. Turn on a light. Searching the ground. Nothing in sight. No answers are found. Feelings of fright, confusion and hate. Digging for night. Choosing my fate. Shallowest brook. Taking a dive. Leap before look. Buried alive. Every space white. Every note black. Every song right. Advice on 8-track. The color of bloom. The feeling of death. The scent of doom, left on one's breath. Crying in rage. Stories to tell. Turning a page in your stairway to hell. Life in midstream of ease and stray. Something obscene. Man must obey. Helpless aloof. Needing a hug. Fingerless proof without any drug. Age with power. Roomless respect. Countless advice. Rid of neglect. Bleeding berries. Sacrifice some. All sufering varies. Too much of Rum. Some foreign cool when times are right. Got to be a fool to lose your height. Caroline Roschuk March 1995 |
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