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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Personal >> ID #1551341 |
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I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch, He said to me, you must not ask for so much. And a pretty woman leaning in her darkened door She cried to me, hey, why not ask for more? (From "Bird on a Wire" by Leonard Cohen.) What I Mean "It is impossible to say just what I mean." [1] The truth has many viewpoints each painted by the brush of experience, trauma, abuse -- the list goes on. What we see and what we hear depends on who we are and where we've been. Emotions are unreliable -- they may be triggered by childhood fears of abandonment, years of bullying, disease, alcoholic parents. We all wear our visible and invisible scars. Some scars we wear with pride, others we try to submerge, yet they rise to the surface unexpectedly like putrefied corpses. Their corruption taints everything we see feel, hear or experience. Worst of all is the insecurity, inability to trust, unexplainable emotions. Fears which no longer have relevance can pull our carpet of security out from under our feet and leave us sprawling, helpless as the children we once were. Is there any hope for the future? Is there an escape from a haunted past? Perhaps, for some of us, there is hope -- "Like a bird on the wire, Like a drunk in a midnight choir" [2] We can try in our way to be free. (1) From "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot. (2) From "Bird on a Wire" by Leonard Cohen.
© Copyright 2009 Dennis Cardiff (UN: dcardiff at Writing.Com).
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