Misty, Misty, Morning

Enfolds me in its mist,

To help me with my "Mourning"

Of my childhood missed.

Of false love and ugly scars,

Handed down through

The quilts and threads like bars.

Of a fathers brutal hands

Life was like that "rubber band"

Not soft gentle fatherly hands.

Time and feelings I’ve had to repress

I now know

I’ve stood the test.

To explore the terror enough

Inflicted on me at such a young age –

I have now found the strength

To uncover and unleash my hidden rage.

I now feel worthy of

‘Letting my love in’

And strong enough to cut the threads . . .

Those that bound me.

I have now found the

Keys Of The Times Of My Passage!

Misty, Misty, Mornings

Now surround my Heart

And the two shall never part!