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Hannah Wooldridge Poem
Reminiscing of past and present
Wadding through the swamplands
Hiding from the ominous intruder
Decieving the manic attempts
Partly relying on the defenseless
While still behind the strong
Standing tall beyond the enemy's grasp
Watching detailed movements
Yeah, though I walk swiftly
Amoung a violent crowd
Carrying torches and pitchforks
I'm empty handed and the victim sought
How is it that they're blind to me
I'm within their grounds
They call my name and show my photo
But still, they past right by
As I run, beyond their hands
Beyond the weapons' tips
I walk right through a sword
Yet, I'm not split in two
I stand firm, unscarred, intact
How is it that I'm alone in this
By myself in a crowd of strangers
Just because they search me out
How is it that I'm alone here?
The weapons aimed and held, but
A faceless body lay among the crowd
Hole forms as they step back and around
This is my body that lies upon the ground
Take me home, would you take me home
I see my own blood dancing on my fingers
My own self in my hands
Eyes pouring a mirror in the sands
An extinct personality's gone
Mirror in the sands is empty
Faceless escape of my own life
My own fear a melody forgotten
Lyrical injustice taken from this
Breathing a song I'm singing
As the blood dances on my fingers
Copyright © Hannah Wooldridge | Year Posted 2007
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