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Melissa Koutsogiannis

of

Plymouth, MA, US

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mbargman@emerald.tufts.edu (Melissa Koutsogiannis )


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The Hill

by

Melissa Koutsogiannis

We stand upon the hill, the man, the grave and me.
Special bond between us, which soon I will break free.
And I can't, won't and don't cry, for that's someone I shouldn't be.
But, I loved her, and he loved her, and she loved him, you see.

He places a flower on her grave and speaks in a whisper so low:
"What can I do without her? My God, I loved her so."
As I watch him leave, I want to scream, "Please don't leave! Don't go!"
For, I love him, and she loved him, and I loved her, you know.

So, the grave and I stand alone, one upon the hill.
When, I think of what I have done, it gives my culpable soul a chill.
The guilt was there at the time, and lingers with me still.
For, when she loves him and he loves her, and you love him, you kill.


To You

by

Melissa Koutsogiannis

Why do you stay locked in the prison of your mind?
You've thrown away the key and it's oh so hard to find
I wish that I could reach your misunderstanding cell.
But, I cannot get through those burning gates like Hell.
I see your wormlike fingers reaching through the bars.
I see your face uplifted to the Heavens and the Stars.
If you could see the good in people; set your captive free,
Maybe you could trust again, that will be your key.
But, as your locked inside your mind, I'm locked inside your house.
And, even I can't find the key that will finally let me out.
To outsiders we seem perfect as perfect as can be.
When we show them our true selves, that will be my key.