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Poetry by Maris B. Mohr


Does pain exist to remind me I'm alive?
Is it a test, or a punishment?
Am I so bad that I must be constantly,
forever tormented and tortured?

There must be and answer, a reason, a cause . . .
it can't be an indelible part of me, coming only
from me,
like a great, flaming red aura that draws me to a black abyss of frustration
and despair.

Or can it?

Maris B. Mohr

(From Poetry 2)


relief in the soul
opens eyes to colors and beauty
lets the heart give
and accept love
fears become hope
thoughts float into dreams
apprehensions fall aside
future maybe hopeful once more
for a while
needing to live the moment
relish the day
focus on the sweetness of now
tomorrow will be tomorrow

Maris B. Mohr

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