Untitled 12

I use to think, to believe, that pain was the foundation

that happiness and flowers were a fairy tale;

Words I read on a page, that made no sense

trapping me in a whirlwind of pain.

As I grew and began to see the world anew

I realized your sickness, your disease

Alcohol, a vice to others

the voice whispering in your ear.

You hurt me, your inability to see

alcohol was your mistress but what the fuck about me?

Deadened to expectations, accepting only what I could see

my lip curls now in disdain, as I realize;

A man you were not, a father you could never be

a childhood destroyed,

never once an apology.

I spit on you,

your sacred memory.

I hope you burn in hell

accompanied by the demons

who damned you in life.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Aug 1/12

Triumph

Sittin on the end of the pier

staring out at wind swept waves

Curling and racing

tearing away my pain.

I don’ need no love

I don’ need no cares

All I need is belief in myself

And than I shall rise above.

You sought to tear me down

to eradicate

The beauty and truth I see

because it did not confirm

With your reals.

Who gave you the right?

The ability to judge and deem

that only your way is the path?

And those who do not follow

you make undone.

I sit on the end of the pier

wind dancing in my hair

Watching the glories of the day

as the sun rises high above.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

July 12/17

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