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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1163338-The-Turning-Point
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Emotional · #1163338
Free verse, but with some lyrical components, what do you think?
The Turning Point

A little black cat whose
fur flows in the breeze,
with deep hazel eyes
brings me to my knees.
Within innocent glare
my sins be reflected,
with ten-fold the pain
my excuses rejected.

Unsavory tactics led me through life;
suffering, pain, were my intense pleasure.
Now I have found I had lived on a loan:
my penance is paid
in chances I lost,
people now gone,
and emotions destroyed.
I look back at time and find all I have left
is buried within my emotions and strife.

A little black cat whose
fur flows in the breeze,
with deep hazel eyes
brings me to my knees.

My memories forgotten, I lived off the pain
and pitied myself while hiding away.
My sins I forgot, deeds were but history,
‘till my gaze met that of an old, silent wisdom.
Wisdom smothered by timepieces and schedules,
by corruption and greed and selfishness,
hiding where accepted, opening to only those who care.
A rush of emotions as memories flooded back,
an inundation of hurt, of regret, of shame.
Shame I never felt.
Shame I should’ve felt.
Shame that was saved and locked up inside
only to be brought back by a little black cat.

Within innocent glare
my sins be reflected,
with ten-fold the pain
my excuses rejected.

Hours became days, seconds became minutes,
time was worthless, only another catalyst for shame.
I Don’t know, I don’t care, I forget it ever happened,
Never happened, gone with the wind
But it happened.
Its still happening in the punishment I have self-inflicted;
I have been banned from humanity,
rejected from the loving care of others.

I admit my sins.
I admit my greed.
I admit my selfishness.
I admit to the sky, to the earth, to any and all powers I know not whether to believe.
I admit to those I have lost,
and I admit to the one with the deep hazel eyes: a solemn judge of my actions.

I am ready to change.
I am ready to show love and compassion again.

A little black cat whose
fur flows in the breeze,
with deep hazel eyes
brings me to my knees.
Within innocent glare
my sins be reflected,
with ten-fold the pain
my excuses rejected.

I pick up the little black cat and go home.
© Copyright 2006 Drecver Has Come Full Circle (drecver at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1163338-The-Turning-Point