TRY TO REMEMBER. . .

Who I've always been, and not parallelled to another.
Being given birth during a treacherous period in time,
must have afflicted me in ways I cannot explore,
for my mannerism as a child led to unsolved tantrums.

Was I caressed with love, or a victim of bitterness?
My memory goes back to a place of long ago,
when I roamed each path with fear along the way,
my pace was slow and destiny undetermined.

Rage cultivated like a rock inside of me,
ready to explode any time I felt neglect,
if it was envy, or just plain recklessness,
I kept seeking a better trail to walk on.

Growing older, wiser, but with much distress,
taste buds of unlawful doing I consumed,
while setting the blame onto my own soul,
I later absorbed, I was accused with no trial.

Struggle became a deficiency as the years flew by,
thriving to hold on to any strength left in me,
at times, overcoming the fear I beared for so long,
at others, an unknown personality took over me.

Becoming abusive during attempts of defense,
only to lose the battles I was in need to conquer,
a mature woman, on my own, and isolated,
with never ending battles I've yet to defend.

Dependant on others, I admit, is yet another blame,
an addiction portraying the inner-side of me,
striving to do the utmost, to the best of my knowledge,
as my strength lessens, I become feeble to my fears.

I do not wish pity, only for God's grant for serenity,
for only He identifies how much pain one can endure.
My giving to others could not have meant very much,
for it's proof they seek, as I plead for acknowledgment.

Try to remember... I am not a misplaced villain,
I think of other's wealth prior to my own,
my achievement being gratification I perceive,
for as long as I have my senses, I will not substitute.

No soul should endure sensations of being a victim of life.
Denial, a powerful state of mind, sustains evil emotions.
Ignoring factual communication of past remembrances,
can lead you to an unknown zone and forever fade away.

Try to remember...
in my soul lays a heart
beating to the rhythm of a true being.

Yana Petkov
8th February 2005

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