Pink Vulnerability
I continue to feel
the searing pain.
ever constant.
so keen.
Not the kind
that heals fast,
open wound that closes.
But, the kind that stays vulnerably
with the passing years.
Three decades
and still counting.
Woe to this pain!
With laden anguish,
The heart's bemoaning.
Thinking it was born
without a name.
Only to find then
at a much later time;
giving in.
Oblivious now.
Unashamed
that my bosom groans,
complains.
Copyright © Wendy Meyer | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment