Scars
life is weather-stained with years
and gardens ravaged and forlorn . . .
I have been collecting scars
s c a r s that will never heal
and endless storms shake
the of my ocean of sleep
with waves of time that crash endlessly
O, scars are the p a t h to travel
and my S O U L is a labyrinth, twisted
with jagged, sharp pieces
and d r e a m s are flowers long dead
yet, I drink from the deep blue sky each day
to find that rare thing of happiness that hides away
life- a window open but a door firmly closed
O, will L O V E come unbidden
will a lover fight
among the dregs of my past sorrow
that hang from d r i p p i n g branches
grey and dead
will he follow the road of my scars
battle the demons that lurk
to find that my
h e a r t is open wide . . .
___________________________________
September 7, 2018 Edit, March 17, 2021
Poetry/Free Verse/Scars
Copyright Protected, 03-1336-966-17
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Submitted into the Standard contest, All Yours (Mar 19)
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 03/19/2021
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2021
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