Each Year I Encounter Gentle Souls

Each year I encounter gentle souls
For whom my every action is a trial
Patterns learned from childhood
Conflicted shifting words
I see distaste mirrored in clear eyes
Sadness creeping through
A battlefield of shame
Cold soldier on a lonely front
Bringing home a taste for poison
Pass pain in lover's kisses and
Embracing long lost children
If only I had kept my peace
When the chance to strike came there
Let them beleive what they would
Support their bubble world
Protect innocence from darkness
As I promise that I will
Clear eyes would still be still
Not run with shattered tears
Friendships would still be alive
Not ghosts to haunt my days
Their joy a bitter pill

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This work is Copyright (c) Mike Fletcher 2002