we bury the past like but not with dread
wounded hearts triaged and on the mend
we bandage the cuts, scratches and mars
slowly they heal with just a faint scar
we pick it all up from yesterday
start again fresh, another clean slate
what we put in is what we get back
tenacity a virtue that you never lacked
you see the lightning, hear the thunder
a red-flag warning that causes some to shudder
an Irish tempest with eyes that flash
you may have finally met your match
you can't say that it is ever boring
you lassoed a tornado with your lariat
like Pecos Bill you ride though it bucks
going till the buzzer with any luck
you hold on tight, with one arm in the air
spurring me on with your special flair
ride on Pecos, hold on tight
this could be the ride of your life
Categories:
triaged, imagination, introspection
Form: Couplet
She sits upon the rain waiting.
The wind whispers in her ears,
at night she sits amid.
The candlelight praying,
praying that none of it is real.
Loneliness now her best of friend.
He comes to bless her every sight,
as she cries upon the rain.
And winds and his pillow every night.
His touch now only felt in dreams,
in her heart she feels so cold.
And the once sweet memories,
she now finds hard to hold.
Wrapped up in the moonlight.
She wipes each tear away,
as the memories keep bringing.
Her back to that one grey triaged day,
when the bullet left the gun.
Categories:
triaged, death
Form: I do not know?