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Who feels for the Monsters
among us? I do. They make me wonder. What happened to them? What's it like to dwell where its dark? Who blotted out their light? Or did they even recognize it? The light in the world, the light in themselves. I see them on street corners. Passers by giving them the widest swath of ground, and looking up like they're not around; the looks on their faces announce to the world: Look at this creature. He has no worth. A freak of nature. A Monster from birth. While, all the while, the Monsters smirk. Their sharp teeth hiding fears of being reviled. Its an uneasy circumstance to be continually beguiled. Dragging yourself around, like some lost child who may never come home. I knew of a man child who slept at his Mother's convenience in her bedroom closet. I knew of a woman whose Father guarded her company jealously from age two years old. I'd like to know: How what made one of them homeless, eventually made the other one whole and thriving. She, later on, adopting a daughter of her own. You know, I think, we're each, all alone. and in our own way, Monsters. Copyright Saturday April 20th, 2013 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author Melissa A. Howells //// Meloo /// straight from her Tilt-a-World Written onto a scrap of paper while on a Saturday odyssey running away from the current brokenness of my life. Later transcribed. expanded Tuesday April 23, 2013 late morning. Feeling this was well worth the re-writing. LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS WORK, FOR THIS SITE TITLE BY THIS AUTHOR Vote for this poem |
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