Don't Ask
By: Tenna Perry

Don’t ask me why
I look upon the past
Digging up the fear
For the answer is near

Don’t ask me to forget
So many memories
Have disappeared over the years
Washed away with unshed tears

Don’t ask me to grow up
It seems I was always an adult
Though biddable, meek and mild
Was I ever indeed a child?

Don’t ask me not to write
About the evil in this world
It lays hidden now out of sight
Writing forces it out into the light

Don’t ask me not to speak
To muffle my story or stay mute
I will tell it in a whisper or a scream
Until I finally learn how to dream

Don’t ask me to hide
In some agonizing shame
I did no wrong, no guilt will you find
Though I spent years ridding it from my mind

Don’t ask me to forgive
It isn’t required for me to heal
Forgiveness must be sought
By those whom for so long I fought

Don’t ask me about loyalty
Or of what I supposedly owe
To those who have died
Their cowardliness I refuse to abide

Don’t ask me about family
For I have made my own
They love me for what I am
As for any others, I don’t give a damn

Don’t ask me to be like Mother
It was a term she never understood
Even a cat needs not reflect
To know its job is to protect

Don’t ask me to ever be
Daddy’s little girl
I spent too many nights learning
The filth of that man’s yearning

Don’t ask me to let
Bygones be bygones
I won’t sweep them away with the rest
For my own children are a test

Don’t ask me to ignore
Possible dangers posed
Never let them say
The monsters were never kept at bay

Don’t ask me why
Look for the answer above
In the photo of my three
My reasons are plain to see


RETURN TO:

January's Issue
Home