Green Fingers
Green fingers
Morning light crept it's long laughing fingers
Around the edge of heavy dark curtains,
And cocooned, my chakra of pain lingers,
Not willing to welcome more of her sermons.
Pain, violently sweeps my darkened room,
Fingers scratching shards of glass, laughing,
And cocooned, my eyes tightly shut, I moan.
In this crowd of sorrows, I hear only her nagging.
Fingers, tear my hair, combed with heartless banter,
Her laughing words remain starkly imprinted,
And cocooned, tears flowing in vain, faster
Through sunken tired eyes, spiraling downward.
Withdrawn, into my inner self, seeking
Peace from those laughing fingers, weeping.
Copyright © Sue Le Mesurier | Year Posted 2014
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