We all carry a wound,
some carry many.
Healed, or still raw,
they are our soft spots.
We shield those places,
that are delicate, fragile.
We build walls around them
to protect them, and prevent
them from being knocked.
For although old wounds
mend and leave their scars,
Sometimes just the tiniest touch,
can open them up again.
And all the pain,
can come flooding back.
As if it had never been gone.
12 comments:
So true....
Good to see you Rashmi. :-)
Love the painting you did to go with your tattered soulful words. It is true, permanent scars remain~xXx
I love this, Susannah. Well done!
Thanks Ella and Sherry. Good to see you both. x
I'm not sure the pain truly goes away. I think it just lingers and waits...
An honest writing... and a lovely piece of artwork to match.
Nevine
Thanks Nevine. Good to meet you, thanks for visiting. :-)
Well. Glad to come here. Well Portraited and defined. Wounds cant be sealed. What ever strength the walls have, they melt like ice when touched. Wounds to be healed. To heal to erase. - Thank You with Best Wishes.
Beautifully said.
True. But it is a good thing they remain forever, isn´t it?
I love your poetry. Congrats!!!
Thanks for visiting Elena. :-)
Very true, well done!
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