Elizabeth’s poetry is poignant and evocative; difficult to ignore or forget.. — kenne
With each mornings shaft of light
I begin my conflict of words, sometimes
I let the tears fall and sadness engulfs
me. Sometimes I smile! I tell myself to
“hush”; it is too late my soul dies further
toward the end as time goes on.
Sometimes I am weak, my heart locked
away too long? Thoughts are concealed,
feared, live and move forward out of blame.
The heart beats on as the voices in my head
feed from the heart with each beat. My words
continue quarreling with my mind.
Has life been no more that random destiny’s?
How lighthearted my life has been, lies,
lies to keep the outside world in dumbness.
Daily I drink from the cup of dissension,
and erratic thoughts, words, look into my soul,
despite pending doom I float thoughtless in
the river of my life with my words clinging
to my throat like…
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Becoming is Superior to Being 
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