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Kathleen Allan Poem
I write a star up on a chart, there in the corner, by that cold shelf
Stars that remind me of pain and regrets
Unspoken emotions I'm forced to suppress.
My teardrops echo, my shame to feel.
No one must see, these wounds that won't heal.
Alone in the darkness, night after night
My arms are empty, my heart to hide.
He used to tell me, "Kindness is free."
He forgot to mention, "Just not for me."
Alone in this sorrow, alone here to sigh
The stars, they speak for me, this person inside.
Inside this shadow, inside this fear
My children must not hear, the pain that is real.
In tears I live. In tears I hide.
No one must know, this person inside.
Hollow with longings, desperate with fear
Turn to a pillow, so they won't hear.
There is another man, I'll touch His face.
He will not lie to me or cause me disgrace.
He once knew loneliness. He once knew pain.
Hanging upon a cross in deepest grace.
To Him, I matter. So, in Him I hide.
This man is Jesus, my Savior who died.
Alone in a garden, His sobs were real.
Although no one listened, or seemed to care.
He promises to hold me, and calm my fears.
He does not laugh at me or mock my tears.
He holds my sorrows, He knows my pain.
He says I'm not worthless. He calls my name.
He knows my failures, abandoned, disgraced.
He says I'm not alone and seeks my face.
For Him I listen. For Him I wait.
This man they call Jesus.
This Savior, my gate.
I teach my children, "Kindness is free"
although in this house, it doesn't apply to me.
I hope they remember, I loved them so.
And that they won't choose this life that I've known.
I write a star, upon a chart, there in the corner, by that cold shelf.
Constellations of sorrows, doubt and despair.
Stars that remind me, of what is real.
Copyright © Kathleen Allan | Year Posted 2006
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