I stand before you
unmasked and naked
As I turn around
slowly, deliberately
Exposing each and
Every scar left by
your love
I pause, and point
at each one, giving
its full tale
The time you ignored
my pain, the time you
called me failure, the
places you allowed him
to touch my skin
And among those marks,
I find a rose, withered
at the edges, but clearly
drawn. His kisses upon
my flesh, that healed
leaving some scars half-
faded
Alas, the rose too
has left its own scars,
Where its thorns have
broken into my soul. Places
where thorny roots
have wound deeply
around my heart
And as I look and
See the horror written
upon your face, at
the scars and marks
You had never seen I
smile, a cruel grimace
A grim satisfaction at
the thought that you
knew nothing of my pain.
Comments
-
Very deep, very personal is this write. I sense a that The Father you speak of is held in high and holy places and perhaps not an earthly one.
You have penned your emotions and that which has hurt you deeply is plain to see when one stops and reads all the lines, all the metaphoric scars where even the rose with its thorns once was healing has withered and faded away.
Very good poem indeed.
awannabepoet
Adding your comment:
