Childhood Chained


Childhood chained




the weakest link

but called great

in the kingdom

Another Storm

Stormy Sunflower

Another storm,

another lightning-bolt from the same source.

She’s seen it all before.

She used to hide

under the bed with her blanket,

but today,

Emancipation Day,

she smiles,

stealing his thunder.

Bleeding Heart

Bleeding heart, who cut fair vein, and left you here to bleed?

Who plied the knife to wounding’s drain, through heinous, depraved deed?

Who dropped the ball, who left their post, that villain access gained?

Why are you gutted by the ghost whose hands with guilt are stained?

How came your fragile lonely heart to hang on futile sleeve?

Who plucked it down with loathsome dart and tore your make-believe?

Where will you turn, where will you find the comfort that you crave?

O bleeding heart, there is One kind, Whose strength can make you brave.


Image courtesy of El Bueno, El Feo y El Malo

Yours the burden of engineering roof,

Of weaving a covering to hem my heart in;

Yours the choosing of living  aloof,

Of turning a blind eye to layers wearing thin.

I cried in the downpour; your ears heard me not.

I melted in summer heat; your eyes didn’t see.

I begged for your covering; you gave me no thought;

I whispered your name; you ignored whimpered plea.

You left me open to terror by night;

You left me helpless to predators on prowl;

I prayed for a roof, for your guidance, your light,

Your gave the legacy of ignorance foul.

My heart grew deep callouses, my voice hid away;

I adjusted to circumstance, and lowered my eyes.

This charge at your pitiful door I now lay –

You failed me.  Your protection was just thin disguise…


 Shy one, open up your heart,

You don’t need to hang your head;

Life was cruel from the start,

From a wicked hand you fed.

Know that what you learned back then

Doesn’t represent the Truth;

You will need to learn again

From teachers wise and less uncouth

That yours is value beyond gold,

Who you are is beautiful;

Your flesh to highest bidder sold,

But soul stayed free, and pliable.

 Bloom, sweet bud, embrace your life,

A pure and holy work of art;

Leave behind your pain and strife,

Your Maker holds your hurting heart.