Buried Gold
Faint heart once overflown empties alone
sinking beneath shell's hardened clay.
Saving face, only to trace ring line shown
conspicuous on finger yesterday.
Blue veins weave below fair skin, weakening.
Disturb the routine, no one cares;
frown lines curve lower still deepening.
Save what's left - dig through hidden layers.
Cast out the hatred, the past's mistakes,
rise above, be spared future burdened.
In spaces unoccupied, heartache's
existence spurs apathy to mend.
Whoever refuses to sift from the earth
promise of gold buried underground
and an unsure hand has forgotten the worth
of that most precious which can be found.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
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