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I have been very happy recently to share some poetry, from a large collection I wrote a number of years ago. I have held these works behind closed doors for a long time – not looking them over, or thinking that I would ever share them, but for reasons unknown to me, I am inspired to post them here. As the saying goes, the time is NOW. Here, I nurture the feelings of liberation and catharsis.

This particular poem is called “Story”. When I read these words as the person I am today, I was stirred within, and I found myself enveloped in a world bigger than I could digest with my thinking mind. It is said that the heart is the most powerful organ in the human body. Of course this is open to debate, but today I am inclined to agree.

Story

 
This is what I want to write:
You think I create a story
And you fail to see the plot
No that is wrong
You fail to agree with the plot
You see it with different eyes
That I believe is fair to say
 
But of course your eyes
Have not adjusted to the screen
Upon which I present my scenes
There is so much you do not see
Or know, or live, or understand
The biggest of these is
There is so much you do not believe
And even more that you do
I never reached you there
Though I wish I had
I know there is much you can teach me
And I do not belittle you in all of this
For you are wonderful to me
 
There is a story you have written for yourself
And this story fits you well
It surely suits you and makes you happy
But it is not whole
Some of the facts elude you
Or you willingly elude them
So the story is only half-right, half-complete
Developed over years of collating words and actions
Take one or two
Of these and transform them into
A changed perspective
A character development
Progression if you will
And find belief in something
You told me you did not believe in
And then maybe with time you will find another story
With time
(This is truly my wish for you)
 
Or maybe you will
Stick to your plot
(It is after all a good story)
And I will stick to mine
And we can wave at each other
From each director’s chair
You will look at me as you wave
And think only good
And I will smile for you
 
I must go and work now
On character development
As good as my creative purpose is served here
I cannot wait until the time comes
When I do not have anymore to write for you
When I am empty of pain
And sadness
And no longer feel hurt
Or feel the loss I can only reach
Through these words
When I read them over
I will not give a role to martyrdom
And I will keep redefining my plot
Until the well runs dry
Until I am renewed
Until my wounds have healed
And our story ends
 
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