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A Right to Cry

Poetry By: Barefoot
Poetry



This is a poem written to myself, but maybe others will understand it as well. I don't mean to be offensive, I understand that this poem does not apply to everyone. It is just an idea, when I considered that many people I know (including myself) actually enjoy learning about suffering, we enjoy the sad parts in stories or movies... while many people actually have to suffer this. We make it an entertainment - some people live just for this entertainment. I think that is wrong. That is no way to respect those who have known far greater pain than us.
But maybe I'm wrong. If you have an opinion, please comment it. Thank you.


Submitted:Apr 21, 2010    Reads: 49    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


Who are you?

To you take sobs from widowed ones

And weave them to your bones

You steal the grief of death and pain

And rob the flowerless tombs?

And there beneath the shadowed veil

You plant them in your flesh

You, who rob grief of its rights,

And glorify the Death.

The world was cut in dark and light

And now the shadows are bare

For you have gathered them to yourself

And found a solace there.

The knife-cuts on your bloody arms

The lies you relish, and devour

The feeding off sad beauty's charms

Should shame you, not empower.

The tears belonged to orphaned girls

And funeral attendees

They weren't for you to wield to death

And squander when you please.

There was a beauty in shadow,

Against the brilliant sun

But inky black across the map

Does not help anyone.

You make tears and pain worthless

You make their beauty fade

And though you think you're trapped like this

It is a trap you made.





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