Poetry/Prose by Amichime
Halls Mirror Your Image
Halls mirror your image
An image that will never cease.
Memories cloud my head
Your face
Golden
With eyes that look deep into the soul
Your laugh
A child-like innocence
And your smile
Bringing warmth and comfort like the sun
To those around you.
But afraid and insecure
I hid my heart from you
I hung up a night's sheild
To what stirs deep within my chambers.
You became fustrated with my silence
But you didn't understand
All I needed was time.
Wishing I could rewind the clock
To let my armor fall down to my feet
And show you the real me.
And show you the real me.
Observation 1
A man sits in an orange colored booth
In the far corner of the diner
Stirring his coffee.
He is hunched over
And his eyes are fixed upon his spoon
Circling the edges of the cup.
A pale-looking women sits across from him
Tiredly eating a muffin.
Her eyes are sunkin in.
She takes bits of the muffin with her delicate fingers
And slowly brings them to her mouth.
Both do not wish to look up
Not wanting to see the others'
Coldness growing inside them like cancer.
A great barrier is placed between them
Like a wall unable to crumble
Like glass unable to shatter
No matter how much strength is forced upon it.
Purge and Burn
The flames swirl and twirl
From the deadened wood like a salamander.
Red sparks fly in all directions.
Crumpled up papers of abandoned thoughts are
Consumed by the fire.
Sad memories that the heart wishes to let go
Burn to ashes.
The air is stagnant and gloomy
As people bow their heads in silence.
Compelled to let go of their loses,
To fill the shared emptiness
With love and charity of others.
Tears stream from soft eyes
Creating pathways in delicate skin.
And hearts hold hands while the fire burns wildly
Observation 2
  A young girl sits erect in her chair. Her hands clinging to the arm rests, her eyes focused on the blue velvety blanket covering the seat in front of her. An older women sitting beside her who appears to be the young girl's mother carries tension in her face. Her wrinkles defined as if she were an old women breathing her last breath. Her hands are fluttering frantically, repeating the same motions over and over to the young girl. The girl harbors confusion in her eyes, as the nose of the plane speeds downward. Her eyes shift back to the seat and begin to gaze deep into the blueness of the seat cover as if there was a whole different world beyond the rich colorful tones.
  Suddenly a loud thump echoes like the boom of a thunderstorm. The ocean swallows the tiny toy-like plane, its waves pushing it farther and farther into its mouth. From inside the plane, the young girl's muscles tighten to a crisp and her pupils dilate quickly. Water caves into the plane and the girl is left to sit frightened in her silent world.
Copyright © 2000 Amy Pandolfi
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