Satin Dreams  Satin dolls, teddy bears,

somewhere along the way became satin nighties and silken teddies.
Barbie's dream house was moraged, a house of cardboard dreams.
When did it change?
When did the child grow up?
I climbed to bed a child, awoke a woman.

Where was this fabled childhood,

the trips to Mickyland, picnics in the park.
As I stand before the mirror today,

I gaze at the reflection, seeing nothing.
When was I a child?
When was I allowed to play?

The only memories I have are fleeting, like the fog that rolls in,

merely disguising features of an unfeeling past.
Perhaps it is wiser not to see, these sharp rocks looming behind me.
Close my eyes, hearing nothing.
But is this ignorance bliss?
Is the murky night safer, no sight of the dismal distance darkness?

Now, fully a woman, full of life and passion,

I view the gallery of life, seeing only half formed images.
What is there?
Is it worth the price I pay?

Yet I see only a fragment of the reflection,

perhaps the time to lift this veil of darkness has arrived.
The light strikes through,

I walk down the uneaven path of childhood once more.
Dispursing the fog forever.

(c) Bearurr, 1998<  
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