Scars On My Soul
My life is weather-stained with years,
my world a garden ravaged . . .
Since a child I have been collecting scars,
s c a r s that will never heal;
and storms shake the ocean of my sleep,
the waves of time keep rolling over me endlessly.
Oh, scars are the p a t h to the soul,
and my S O U L is a labyrinth;
of jagged, sharp pieces,
and my d r e a m s are flowers that have died.
My scars a long chain of heavy lead,
Yet, I drink from the deep blue sky each day;
but the rare herb, happiness, hides away from me,
my heart a window open but a door firmly closed.
Oh, will L O V E come to me unbidden?
Will a lover fight for me?
I dwell amid the dregs of past sorrows,
that hang from d r i p p i n g branches in the grey;
woods of my mind. . .
Will he follow the road where scars are the path to the soul?
Will he battle the demons in my S O U L ?
Yes, my life is weather-stained with years,
and my world a garden ravaged;
yet, my h e a r t is open wide . . .
_______________________________
September 7, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/Scars on My Soul
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1220-316-01
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest, Strand Choice 9
sponsor, Brian Strand
Honorable Mention
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