Poem Hunter
EG (11/01/84 / Florida)


Poem By Erica Gipson

How can this broken vessel float,
Or a wounded bird ever sing?
How can a delicate flower bloom
If there never comes a spring?

Your voice is often silenced
And almost always never heard.
Lost in the unbalance
Is your every spoken word.

Like a rain dropp on the sea
Or a grain of sand on the ground.
I blend into the scenery
And dare not make a sound.

I feel like a feather in the wind
Unsure where I will land.
Could it be upon a fire?
Or in a child's hand?

Losing hope, I flutter,
No longer floating I begin to fall.
Like knowing how to walk
But being forced to crawl.

Close you eyes its almost done
Just a little longer.
If you make it through this
You'll emerge a little stronger.

'Chin up now' they say to you
With smiles on their faces.
No sympathy for broken dreams
In this cold hearted place.

I finally lose my will to fight
And dropp straight to the floor.
Shattered to a million pieces.
My struggles are no more.

Piece me back together
And frame me on the wall.
I'm not better here struggling,
Than I would be hanging in the hall.

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Comments (1)

Wow - what a well-constructed poem! Well done!