Confessional

No one knows, or could know,

except me,

  of all the wrong turns which haunted the life

  that I was forced to live;

  of the lost battles which I did not dare shout to the world,  

   but cried for in my corner, alone and embittered;

  of the unfair attacks I was unable to defend myself,

  or of some, I do not know how I got the strength,

  and had been victorious, defeating them;

  of the loyal and affectionate love I found,

  but lacked the courage to embrace;

  of the faith and hope I had to invent,

  for not possess them in the right size,

  when I got up each new day;

  of a strong and paternal God who provided me

  with an army of angels, who guided me through  

  some dark and crooked paths I have traveled by.

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©

Confessional

God did not endow me with the gift of detachment.

I cannot detach myself from that,

or those, whom I loved in life.

They will be forever in my body

and my soul, with all the strength

with which they touched me.

They say I am sentimental,

which is no longer fashionable.

Psychologists, teachers, doctors,

there is no shortage of those who condemn

and exorcise me.

We entered long ago the era of business,

and pursuit, at any cost, of happiness

and individual pleasure,

a dangerous teaching that has been perpetrated.

As if this were an acquired right,

perhaps even a duty to fulfill. 

I cannot breathe without the values I cherish,

love and affection for each and every one,

whom I have met in beloved our human race.

I do not intend to abandon my loves and desires,

which I conquered with such fervor along my path.

I will lie with them in the eternal sleep I am condemned,

they will give me sustenance and contentment, perhaps, 

even forgiveness, for what I lacked in courage

to fight harder this impious and cruel world.

This poem and all others at this blog, authored by Edilson Afonso Ferreira ©