A Thought~

'I stare at the human mind'
that continues to cause mental devastation...' 
though, I've plenty of reasons to exonerate them now 

I finished school eons ago; however memories lurk
 they sizzle, stir....  fleetingly
I've forgiven the sweet sinners; I thank them 
for they made my little heart
conscious, with the embers of hate

Unwittingly drawn into a dominant

 anglicized culture

crowning came easy for many, but

the naivete of my reactions made

 'snobbish' girls made fun of me

They kept aloof; abandoned me

whispered, giggled in the crowd

subjected me to emotional torture

The new school started suffocating me

After two days...  the students 
dispersed for the afternoon activities
I kept sitting....restless and awake

Sunlight tripped down the staircase

Calmed ....the thumping feet
Silence felt safer;.... and then
A pair of feet returned; smiled uncertainly

my bench-mate, .... pulled my hand 
gripped her fingers into mine, and
Took me to the ground..

it was a gesture; so transparent, so gratifying;

flowers and butterflies gushed forth

i couldn't unclench my fingers; it was 

 a new shore--- full of Sunshine! 

 There are some memories that seem fresh even after the passage of several years.  Bullying IS an unavoidable part of school life. No child deserves to be bullied - it's an unacceptable behavior and can have a devastating effect on the victim.... 

Written for sunday-mini-challenge.  First line taken from : The Dark Tree

A Bonfire~

Eighty three years, three months and million whirls

Of earth she has allowed--- under her ageing toes

Struggling up the trail through the morning mist

clawing at the ground, she whispers:

 ‘ah, time to live like chickens in cages’!

The notes tremble in her throat,

 Her inner voice takes over choric tones...

 send nothing…neither logic

nor happy dreams….

Existence, at some point of time

 becomes meaningless…

She hastens up the path

Stands in front of her garden

Wonder of wonders…A BONFIRE

Burning, adjacent to her own garden

 feeds her soul

She inhales the smoke of the

Rotten heaps of compost… and realizes

We all have our boundaries, distances to travel

At one point, the outside world comes

To sit at our fences

Ah, destiny is a picket fence

A porch for the old folks

To sit alone… and lament

Silence…absence means nothing!

Shared with Poets United: Verse-first-FENCE