quiet verbal abuse
Sometimes I felt like this during my stay at Morningstar.
There is a quiet verbal abuse that I endure;
perhaps we all endure, people are angry because they are not treated right.
I walked amongst them I do not understand, they
lash out but I endure, perhaps we all endure.
The world has not treated me kindly, you have
treated me right, other voices lash out, and the world has treated them
like hell.
I think I live in heaven, they think they live
in hell.
This happened so long ago, lashes of steel words
and shards of broken English were pointed at me, perhaps us.
I have learned to walk tall and see the words
as cries for help, perhaps you have to,
I do not try to help anyone anymore I only see
there words as voices crying, perhaps speaking softly.
I stop to listen; perhaps I'll understand, perhaps
not.
I live in a world of our images of god; I assume
it's the garden, perhaps the garden to play
in.
Laurel is calling I have to go.
+
I embed these words into my early stay at Morningstar
(Tomas2). Some folks were very angry that I arrived. I have always been
a scapegoat, I look the part, I seemed to represent the influx of people
that continued to arrive after the first were told to leave. I was not
aware of what was going on at the time of my arrival but by reading everything,
I fall into the category of arriving to late. I did not know my position
in the community at the time, I was very happy to be there.
It seemed that half the folks hated my arrival
and the other half loved my arrival.
I was bombarded with emotions that were not pleasureable.
Gollum is learning the meaning of ....
badaba
Home
.