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Remembering You

Remembering You

A ghostly flower blooming and withering,
(or blot) blinking with colors that strain to brightness,
to equal those of what were seen before;
fragments, with the music or plain utterances
attempting to be as loud (or as soft)
as what they really were...

But all in vain.

Blurred and ephemeral. Just for a haunting and fleeting...
Many times an unexpected visitor,
an intruder, inside...

What is complete and constant is that depressing spirit:

Void of form and details, yet lingering, encumbering,
dragging. Punctuated, highlighted,
by the thief that intermittently
gives, curses, and leaves

with a piece.





You chip away at

my resolve

but I will not be

your whipping boy

I will not be

your dog in a corner


or fighting to get out

Your jibes and


will not move me

I am firmly rooted

I am solid in my foundation

I will not


under your attacks 

 You chip away at

my resolve

but you cannot shake me

Each piece you take

is replaced

with stronger


centered stone

anchored in truth

and dignity

and morality

You chip away at

my resolve

but you will not see

my tears

only my strength

His will through me

My faith

my trust

my hope

is not in you

but in the One

Who guides me

Here I am defined

not in

   your school

or under

   your thumb

or into

   your corner

I am me

without you

You chip away at

my resolve

hopeful of a self-destruction 

you are instead

an artist

and your carvings,

in spite of you,

reveal a better me.


Gwen Harrod wrote this poem in 2002 while being abused by a principal.



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