(Author's- er- Poet's Note: I wrote this while wearing a skirt, which always means trouble. As soon as I get in a skirt- especially my black one- I start getting tragically romantic ideas and next thing you know I'm under a tree, sniffing a rose, and writing poetry in gold ink on purple paper. This is one of my more intense efforts. I think more people should be able to put themselves in my poor Erik's mask.)

A PHANTOM QUESTION

If all that you knew

Was hatred and fear;

If there was no one

Whose heart held you dear;

If you lived in darkness,

Away from all sight,

And the thing you feared most

Was the morning daylight;

If you had a face

Your own mother abhorred,

And your only solace

Was a soft music chord;

If you knew less joy

Than you'd ever felt pain;

If it was an accident

That gave you your name;

If you were locked up

Like a beast in a cage

And your only escape

Was unlimited rage;

If your work was your life,

If your soul was your voice,

If every day faced you with terrible choice;

If you felt forsaken by God up above-

What would you do

At the first touch of

Love?