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Dark Rooms

Our childhood was shattered by gunshots and anger

Living in fear for our lives being left in the path of danger

No safe houses, no officials, no one knew of our plight

Living each day like our last, thanking God for morning's light

Dark rooms with loud yelling, pictures scattered on the floor

Living through it all, fighting obstacles that seemed to block doors

Running away not an option, guns to our temple, lying there in bed

Living without tears, for tears made us weak, wishing we were dead

Frightening whispers, sounds of creaking doors closing tight

Living devoid of trust, uninvited dreams still visit us each night

— jamadarie, Sep 24, 2009

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O

Orphani

16 years 8 months ago

this sounds like the basis

this sounds like the basis for a short story why dont you consider it.Your sense of form, and intensity would lend very well to this.Suspensefully written..............o
J

jamadarie

16 years 8 months ago

Your Comment

Thank you for the time you took to read and evaluate my poem. It is a poem taken from actual events of my life. One day, I might just write it all out, but for now it lives in haunting moments of clarity that force me to write about them.