She let choice go
and wept with shifting weights,
balancing act of
surrogated days.
Laughter stroked the back
of pain’s atonement,
soothed the ache
of sometimes waking moments.
She gathered tears and gelled
the fragments found
of broken self on heap,
a mortal mound.
Inept repair for fractures
gone too deep,
a timeless wound
repaired by only sleep.
Eased sidestep to another land
her quest,
paralleled worlds where
multi options rest.
Love the form of this poem – each verse stands alone and yet works perfectly to enhance and reinforce its neighbour. Powerful writing.
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Thank you, Chris, for such a positive comment. I’m pleased you enjoyed it.x
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‘Surrogated days’ another great line
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Thanks, R. I’m gonna gather these great lines one day when I’ve got enough and put them all into the one poem. Then give up. lol 🙂
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Sounds like a plan
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🙂
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“Of broken self on heap”, I am quite sure I will never forget that line, the imagery is gorgeous!
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Thank you, Chess. Although I hope it never applies.x
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Lol, I certainly hope so too!!! You have such a gift for words, it is always a treat to read your poems.
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Aw, so sweet of you to say so, thanks.x
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beautiful imaginaneum world
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Thank you.x
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