A Softness

A Softness

I have known rose petals

Of beauty I cannot describe

They floated around me gently

From side to side

I thought these petals were

Meant only for me alone

Then one day I watched as they

Seemed different, somehow not mine to own

They seemed so soft and caring

T'was love I thought they brought

But I knew when I saw them and that

They seemed to be made of rock

All I wanted was a pureness

A softness I could keep

Tears stung my eyes as

They fell hard around my feet

Instead of softness they had

A hardness I had never seen

In something so beautiful

Yes, the tears did sting

But I know True loving petals

Will never fall so fast and hard

The True loving petals will fall gently

Floating as a soft rain, coming gently toward

That is when I will know Love

The rose will show me true

As petals fall so gently around me

They will be that True gift from You.

©Dana Waldrip-Price

2011

A Statue I Am Not

A Statue I Am Not

I am here, don't you see

I am living, I am still me

I hurt inside that you don't see

But I am living, I'm here, I am me

I am as a Statue to you

Like a granite entity

Don't I exist to you anymore?

But I am living, I'm here, I am me

Perfect I will never be

No one is, not even you, you see

Seems I am as a Statue to you

But I am living, I'm here, I am me

Why do you think I always have to be

Happy and carefree, I have many worries

Seems I am a statue to you

But I am living, I'm here, I am me

You never anymore even notice me

The deep wounds I live with daily

Seems I am a statue to you

But I am living, I'm here, I am me

A statue only stands there

No words, no tears, no smile to see

Even a statue needs to be noticed and

I am living, I'm here, I am me

Middle of the dark night, now alone again

The ink from my pen bleeds out dry

How strange, I thought a statue

Couldn't write, feel or cry

My tears again flow freely, now in the dark

My deepest pain and sorrow, no one sees

That I am not a statue, made of stone

I am living, I'm here, please notice me.

©Dana Price

A Hard Lesson To Learn

A HARD LESSON TO LEARN
~
She was battered and bruised, when I came home from school
Mom stood in the doorway, eyes black
Swollen and sore, mopping blood from the floor
The result of my father's attack
~
When I cried and asked why
My Dad’s reply, "Your mother went crazy again"
I'd seen it before when I walked through the door
Their arguing led to mayhem
~
I was but four when I saw the first time
Dad put fist(or worse) to mom's face
She'd bucked him before, she would do it no more
He would keep the bitch in her place
~
Mom hid it quite well, makeup covered the swell
And the black and blue marks that ensued
Only a couple good friends knew to what end
Mom's feelings toward dad had accrued
~
Once Dad’s attack took a broom to her back
Mom decided she'd had enough
"Touch me again and I'll kill you with my own hands
I won't take any more of your stuff"
~
Dad understood, mom meant to make good
On her threat if he touched her again
He could see in her eyes if there was a reprise
His life could come to an end
~
He really never kept his hands to himself, alcohol nor anger put on a shelf
Since everyday Mom would take it, give it, then stand her ground
I cannot forget, but I have one regret
That I never uttered a sound
~
Of protest or rage, for the war they would wage
Left me frightened, as any child would be
I hid from it all, ran to the ditch, or face to the wall
In a closet so I would not see
~
The lesson was tense, at my mother's expense
But I learned quite well what would be
I vowed from the start, and I knew in my heart
This would never happen to me!!

~

© Dana Price