MSN eciuti@hotmail.com


YOU WON'T BE HERE LONG, SO DON'T GET TOO ATTACHED.

Someone wrote the following about me; it may be totally wrong but then again who knows:

Living as a single soldier among your personal wars
Wickedness and whiteness abound you.

You fell, face down bruised and broken
And now you have taken flight
Yet still, you are heavy with desires and burdens that weigh you down

You do not give in to your heart or past
You remain firm with resolve to go on and so you go off to fly
You go until once again you arrive exhausted and tired from so many flights

Just when a distant stare crosses your face
And your eyes are washed over
Wounds that bare many shades of darkness,
Of a past you only share in part

Within you there is a silent madness sleeping
With thoughts that carry weight of a heavy silence
And a quiet desperation lays inside you like a predator
A scent of betrayal lingers about you with aromas of burnt skins

You try to remain out of frame, so neatly tucked away
Hidden within the caves of your mind

You are as still as a serial killer that covets his prey
Calculating your next step as you pretend beneath a million small
Smiles and all of those garments you still carry
With a shattered life you have left behind

Your pain,
Your heart aching
That history that binds you
And all that makes you an island of isolation

YOU so lovely so fragile,
Surrounded by bodies of lust and temptations
You stand with a small fire of arrogance in your belly
As your feet glide past those that reach for you
Walking slowly yet moving so fast
With a fistful of fruitful dreams you remain on your path
Solely for self
Only for you, Stead fast and silent
You walk over life s broken glass

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Theodor Roosevelt