Archive
03/21/10 - (4)
Liberated
Being away for a whirlwind of four amorphous years, oblivions, Wasn't half as bad, as bad as it was, As having returned home, after being liberated,
Especially when home still doesn't recognize you, Has no clue as to who you were Before you were separated from yourself, sixty years ago.
Prior to leaving home, you were void of familial feelings Of compassion, warmth, for being independent, self-centered. Now, you have a deep longing for relatives, ancestry, anyone.
To admit that you don't begin to comprehend the extent of limbo Doesn't elicit humiliation, engender disgrace, in you; You don't even feel guilty about not feeling guilty.
Feelings elude you; even your shadow eludes you, The soul trapped in that whirlwind of amorphous years, oblivions, Still hoping that the Russians or Americans will liberate you.
03/21/10 - (4)
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