No one can reach her

autumn

She was all spikes, like a porcupine
a protection against the world
where once a heart given freely,
love rejected, pain unbearable.

A wall built so high to scale
no cracks, solid like a rock,
love buried deep inside the vault
suffocating, dying a slow death.

Her personal space off-limits
friends few, trust is gone
cold and hard on the outside
terrified and hungry inside.

She fears letting go of hurts
laughter, a forgotten art
to suppress emotions, happiness denied
the abyss dark and bottomless.

Words of love, a forgotten language
a caring touch, in dreams is felt
an anguish cry as day breaks
as love slowly vanishes on a sigh.

Anger, the amour she wears
a weapon destroying friendship
a spell cast, she is an island
with stormy seas, no one can reach her.

By C.E. Pereira
(31-7-2014)

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Author: cepcarol

I'm a Eurasian of Portuguese, English, Scottish and Malay heritage. And my extended family are of Chinese and Indian heritage. My world is made up of different colours like the rainbow. And like the rainbow I am unique. Reading is my form of relaxation, to escape from the drudgery of daily life and enter into a world of the imagination. It is the love of reading that has led me to try my hand in writing short stories and poems. I hope that in some way my stories and poems will take you for a little while away from the drudgery of the present into the pages of imagination. To new friends found, I bid you, Welcome. Sincerely, C.E. Pereira

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