Poetry Blogging, Take 3

I seem to be falling into a pattern of my poems — serious one day, humorous the next. That means that this one ought to be serious again.

This one was, oddly enough, inspired by a character from an old movie. I don’t recall if it was a Clint Eastwood or a Charles Bronson movie, but I’m pretty sure it was one of those. There was a woman who had been brutally assaulted, and retreated into a catatonic state.

Normally I don’t like “explaining” my writing — my teacher’s decree that a piece must stand or fall on its own, without elaboration is practically a tenet of faith with me — I don’t want anyone to think this piece is derived from any personal experience.

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They cannot hurt me here,
They cannot touch me here.
Safe from all the pain,
Safe from all the fear.
Where hands cannot reach
And eyes cannot see,
In this place that’s all my own
Is where I can be free.
They cannot hurt me here,
They cannot touch me here.


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