Cast-off child

Who knew my mother before I was born?
beyond the walls of night, outside of time
who witnessed the pain that robbed me of that soul and split me asunder?
where are they now that held the candles of mystery?
do you see me pushed to the side
edging through the murk of existence, skirting the fringe of glittering soirees
held by people with power, wealth, brilliance flowing through their fingers like the rainwater
streaming across my outstretched arms
how can you miss the arrogance of my pain
it shapes the words from your mouth
we are wise who are mad
give me back my soul
you are serving it up on your silver platter, right next to the canapés
you are drinking it into you, in crystal goblets rimmed with the blood of innocent existence
can’t you hear me screaming into the night
my cries are the backbone of your feeble music
the feral movement of my dancer’s feet could not pattern the hallowed halls of your office life
my rage had no place in your apathy
who is left who saw my mother slink away to the die in the void
when she left that new slave to fate squalling through time
doomed to wait for existence in the space of flesh
stripped of knowing, full of knowledge
bereft of love, having desire to overflowing
full of bitter dregs of memory
memory that never ceases to echo with the whine
the gears, cranking the noise of causation and consequence
searching for my soul has left me thrown aside
crouching in the gutter of daily concourse
with only a dream dancing behind my eyelids

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