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Pleas of a Broken Woman

a rant

Please give me a blueprint of love. If only it were that easy. If only I could know how to let my heart escape the past. “If only” is an ignorant wish that twists and turns down the metal curly slide on a child’s playground. That is, until you end up at the bottom immersed in a sea of pebbles. No one is there to kiss your battle wounds. You are never alone, always with the consequences that infect your blue-black blood that trickles…and stains your scared cheeks of white satin.
Time has passed and many things have changed. The word “love” is now cliché- overused by pathetic fools that have never felt the meaning. This world is spinning out of control and I can only hope for the day when the pendulum ceases to swing back and forth in a hypnotizing motion. I can only pray that someday innocence will be treasured and not carelessly soiled.
All of this haunts my every thought, leading to questions that never find answers, only more questions in a confusing web of philosophical debate. Each breath struggles to come out evenly, but more than often comes in continuous sighs. Maybe one day, I will be free of these dreams that are the final act of a magicians show…when everything goes wrong and my secrets are revealed to an appalled audience. And all I want to do is hide from their burning gaze that imprints a scarlet letter on my revealed shoulder, my pride and shame.
I laugh when she says I can change. They lie…no one, not even this gracious God they speak of can make me pure again. I’ve been disappointed too many times to ever hope in redemption.
God, why would you want something like me?

20 Jan 07

(define the words in this poem)

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are rants considered poems?
 — unknown

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