Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities filled with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, for who more foolish than I and who more faithless?
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renewed,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and the sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question o me so sad recurring- What good amid these o me o life?
That you are here - that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.
My Secret Place
My innocence stolen at just 13 Never feeling like a little girl Lost in everything Now here I stand at 18 years old Running to anything to make me feel whole But today I stopped running I ran out of breath I started a new life Now I have a new step I stood before a mahogany door Maybe 20 feet tall Embroidered with golden ivy and A goldendoor knob Before I could turn it It opened to me wide And I a little girl went running inside Running through a garden with every color flower you could find Yet the fragrance wasnít just the flowers, It was the beauty all aroundI n my little white dress with blue flowers around the waistband I saw my Fatherís eyes, His light was all around All I could do was fall to my knees For His eyes were like a crystal Kaleidoscope Thatís all I could see, I stare into His eyes as He whispers to me See - you are still innocentYour secret place is me! Nina