by Norman Bennett

Created on: August 07, 2009

If I send you my ear,

would you understand my pain?

Would my morbid message,

cause you to refrain,

from hurting me now,

like you've hurt me in the past,

by leaving me and saying,

your love, it could not last?

If I send you my ear,

will you see what you have done?

Would you see you have the power,

that to me, dwarfs the sun?

Would you see that the sun,

simply comes and then it goes,

causing warmth within it's presence,

all behind it is froze?

The sun's heat is nothing,

the cold's clutch is plain,

compared to the contrast,

of your embrace, then your refrain.

When you come, then you go,

I am greater, I am lesser.

Your coming and your going,

to me is my measure.

My worth on this earth,

the purpose for my being,

you create with your canvas,

you paint what I am seeing.

If I send you my ear,

will my pain finally show.

With this grandly gross gesture,

will I strike the final blow?

Will pain versus pain,

be the clashing of the titans?

Will this shock wave stop you,

if your soul I do frighten?

Will the recognition of my grief,

beyond your darkest dreams,

make you recognize my love,

making this a worthy scheme?

If I send you my ear,

these final questions I do ask,

will this crescendo of frustration,

validate my love at last?

Will this action be the evidence,

of my pain so deep, so heavy,

that somehow my sorrow ceases,

and my gesture makes a levy.

To finally cease the flow,

of misery to my soul,

by stacking all my sorrow,

like a mountain to a mole.

I see my thoughts are futile.

I see my words are empty.

I see my actions faulty,

asking another to redeem me.

I see my pain as notice,

from my soul to my mind,

that even through your love,

peace I would not find.

My pain is but a message,

to find somebody new.

Not because you failed me,

but for a different view.

A view of life where I see,

my canvas which I paint,

any dream of my soul,

one without this self hate.

Because if I ask another,

to bring to me my bliss,

then I ask another,

to swing until they miss.

If I keep my ear

which I believe that I will

I'll also keep the power,

of my soul for which to thrill.

The thrill of my own doing,

whether I'm loved or I am hated.

to bask in my own sunlight,

and see what I've created.

To understand my power,

like the sun that I did mock,

to shine on my creation,

my light, I will not block.

The soul is much too precious,

for me to give away.

My wants and needs are something,

that will always come to stay.

Until I look upon them,

and not just pass them by,

as messages from within me,

that only I can satisfy.

Learn more about this author, Norman Bennett.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.