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Gnarled
"People will forget what you said, forget what you did,
but will never forget how you made them feel."
~ Maya Angelou
I woke with twisted thoughts, coiling in my mind
like a trellised vine, weaving through my head
Gnarled bits of thread stitched me to my bed
and both my eyes were sewn shut til I was blind
I heard the sound of my notebook pages turning
by one whose mind was gnarled and full of hate
I could not see to stop him. I was much too late
to save my poetry. They'd been set afire, burning
A grizzled hand ripped the stitches from my eyes
A man with bony knees, bulbous nose, nubby toes,
said, "I am an ugly thorn, and you a beautiful rose."
He cursed at me with a snarl, "It's you I despise!"
Tears bled from the gnarly bloke. One fell on my cheek
I asked him to please free me from the tangled thread
He released me, and then I stood before him and said,
"When a rose needs protection, it's a thorn it will seek."
He stood to full height. The scorning frown disappeared
A smile curved his lips and he flexed each fingertip.
He shook my hand as if we'd just signed a partnership
His life had meaning, for he felt esteemed and revered
Copyright ©
Lin Lane
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