By the look in my eyes.
It's true that you've seen me,
Two or three times.
They say it takes time,
To heal the pain that we share.
We know that's just not true,
Because we've carried this pain for years.
The screaming inside seems unending.
Trying to let them in,to see if they really care.
But they just can't feel our pain!
So we just keep living, in this dead man's stare.
Wondering if freedom is really even out there.
Or should we just stay on guard, and always beware.
Do you really think you've seen me?
You think you know who I really am?
Look in my eyes, try to find me.
If you really think you can.
Maybe it is true what they say.
Or maybe it's just a game.
I know we often wonder, are we guilty or to blame?
Are we really special or are we just insaine?
Could it be the answer is the one who hold's the blame?
I think it's the deepest pain we carry.
Do you see me???
I AM SHAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I wrote this poem just the other day. I read it to my little girls Somer and Cheyanne. When I was finished reading it, Somer asked me what the name of my poem was, and I said it doesn't have a name yet, what do you think it should be called, and she just like that said, The Pain That Lie's Benieth. I was blowen away, that a almost eleven year old girl could know the perfect name to this poem. Then I quickly realized the only way that she could know it is if she could feel me and have the same pain. How powerful. She heard me and I heard her. I can tell you that we had the best day that day, and day's since for Somer and I have been so much better.
I dedicate this poem to Somer, my heart or hearts. You are a beautiful angle baby girl. I'm so happy I could see and we have this chance to walk through this pain together just you and me....
I want to dedicate this poem to a special little girl.
We I wrote The pain That Lie's Beneath I started
to dedicate it to Marty, because I thought of her
so much while I wrote it, so I wanted to come
back and do so. Then out came this little poem.
Her name is Marty, the apple of her daddy's eye.
Most hated by her mommy, when she was little all she could do was cry.
Today she is lost in time.
So special, bold, beautiful, never ever is she chy.
Although you rarely see her because the wounded one she does hide.
Sometimes I can see her piering out even when she is really high.
I feel the pain she carries. Sometimes it makes me cry.
I understand her completely. When I look in her soft brown eyes.
We are like a mirrored image, knowing what we think inside.
I know we often wonder, will we stand the test of time?
To Most hated. From mosted hated times two
You are a good girl to me baby girl. And I love you for all of you
know matter what you say, what you do, because I see the
wounded parts of you.
Love your true friend,
so special, and beautiful. Don't let anyone steal your joy,
Love you much,