PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

their scars speak to me

with an almost numbing grace

such pain I remember but can no

longer myself backwards trace

in their words

I can see the web of their young

lives

twisted in such folds of pain

through the drapes of my own

spirit positive

spells fortune to the sane

hold your flame high

and send misery on her merry way home

for there are for those lost and hurting

many creeks yet to cross

and terrains of hearth ache and experience

to mow

and though I a seasoned mower myself

do not have the words you need

to oust the snakes in your every garden's row

still my reason stands unannounced

willing  to take on even the river's flow

to help apply to your lives a little gladness

at the knee of woe

Melissa

(written March 30,2004)