A interesting poem about burning down the site of abuse in order to move on in life. |
-Flaming Déjà vu- by Keaton Foster When I was twelve I gave this world hell I set it ablaze Burning down All that I hated All that stood as a reminder All that carried the load Of what happened to me At that time in my life I did what I was sure I must Right and wrong played no part I have no regrets Not a damn one I poured out the fuel I held the flame With ease, I let it go The inferno did grow Consuming all light And more importantly Every ounce of blackness Reducing what should have been A safe place to ashes of the wind Flaming Déjà vu is all that is left When I see a flame Regardless of size and shape Regardless of velocity or ferocity My once vacant emotions stir The blackness of what I've done Comes full bear The smell and toxic remnants Of something consumed Easily transports me back To that place and time No one died that night No one gave their life In the destruction of my plight Happenstance stepped in Saving everyone but me I was concerned least of all I should have significant guilt But I certainly seem as if I do not The building that I raised to the ground Was the site of the many times When I was held down And molested free of all The innocents I once screamed A brick and wooden prison A monumental encampment Of all that I could not fight against I had to destroy it I had to lay waste to its bones So that never again could another Be so horribly abused within its walls I stand by what I did And if I had the chance again I would simply use more fuel More flame If I would have been caught They would have understood And if they didn't I would have gladly paid for The destruction of such an abode By the time that I was twelve I had already been serving time In a prison without locked doors or bars In such a prison Were convicts that I called parents I did what I did out of need I did what I did out of anger I did what I did out of hate Not for that old building But for all that happened with its walls It had to burn so that I could live It had to burn so that I could erase it From the landscape of a home That after that day never belonged To me or my jailers again They are now dead Age claimed their lives I am still very much alive I am still doing time Living with all that was done If and when for a second I forget The flicker of even the smallest flame Brings me back to that place And all that I did to escape And erase it from the scenery Of a life that never felt like home… Flaming Déjà vu Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2012. |