Monday, March 14, 2011

I know that I am not the "Golden Child"



For all the words never spoken,
A thought would go with each one.

Though love never ruled,
My love always was present.

Sometimes we cannot share,
Our deepest emotional strife.

 But inside each stare,
possessed so much more than you saw.

If you only could see.

Words are so simple,
Thoughts so complex.

Karen Anastasia, 1999

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