Left Out Among The Crowd

By Karen Aguiar

Never did I dream,

I wish I could before it came,

But till I heard my scream,

Over was the game.

A rose in enchained thorns,

A voice was dead and sealed,

Even in dusk or looming dawn,

Not an inch healed.

Though my bones bite now,

And scourging blood burns,

But I know somehow,

A reward silence earns.

Within the crust so fatal,

Silently hides a storm,

Inner self still fought a battle,

Killing sense of the unborn.

By Karen Aguiar