Her Advice
I'm sitting down on the fading couch,
awaiting the pearls to dribble off her lips.
My mixed up life seeks the comfort of words
to ease the wounds sewn by life's rips.
She spins tales from her journal of yesterday,
but nothing heals this hole in my heart.
Her ancient face trembles with emotion,
trying to give my boring self a jump start.
Numbly, I listen to these piercing sounds of advice,
sifting through the fractured thoughts of my brain.
Her mouth keeps pouring out distant sentences,
submerging my head within her long lost pain.
The medicine of relief comes when her voice ends,
and golden silences embraces my weary ears.
A secure smile strengthens her belief
that her prized advice would ease my tears.
Copyright © Angie Sharp | Year Posted 2007
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