Saturday, February 23, 2013

The House Where I Grew Up (c)

Memories come
To haunt and arrest me
Creating unpleasant feelings,
Like a cold, harsh wind
That blows in the night. 
A child
Needs protection and love.
The shouting and the
fading affection
between my parents,
cut like a knife.
I remember things
I shouldn't have heard.
I release them now.
I cast them aside,
Realizing that memory is an
opportunity to understand,
and accept.
No one is to blame.
There is nothing to fear.
Our memories are but
a springboard to action.

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