I am the poem
asleep deep inside your soul
woken by the touch of a thought
on my face featherlike –
you give birth to me
through the pain
of feelings relived,
I am the magic broom
sweeping the soul,
fiercely, incessantly…
through your eyes I see
a world of wonder
clad in the colours of your heart
I guide your pen
to give me a voice,
so I can scream my pain
into the world today
and share my joy tomorrow,
I help you live,
I see you die,
I bury you
until the last child of innocence
has left the secret corner
of your soul

Sybille(Sydney)Krivenko GISC2052924 2007