Inner Child

Starting over with blank canvas
Where to go from here
I am lacking inspiration
All my visions are unclear
Square one has always been
A place I fear the most
Roll of the dice could lead to victory
Or waken every ghost
Slowly I kneel trembling
Before that dreaded box
Swelling with anticipation
As I fumble with the locks
Peering inside I see the child
Behind her self built levy
Her eyes are stained with tears
Her shoulders hanging heavy
I call my name; she looks my way
But she doesn’t say a word
Voices are unnecessary
My heart has already heard
I stay a little longer
Perhaps longer than I should
Then I close the box and lock it
Promising this time it’s for good
My canvas no longer blank
Mental pictures still to be painted
My mind brimming with visions
Although painful, sordid, and tainted

copyright 2009 Cheryl A. Caron

by Cheryl A. Caron

Other poems of CARON (30)

Comments (2)

Out of the depths of our personal struggles come the much needed inspiration to create that which is most beautiful and reflective of who we are.
beautifully wrote xx