03-06-2016, 06:21 AM
In a little life
one almost smile is worth the day.
A heart breaks, almost heals
then breaks again
and heals.
I take mine out into the sun;
anyone repulsed by the scars
does not have to look, but I bask
in full view absorbing the light.
Some jigsaw pieces may have slipped
under the couch cushions, still
I can admire the whole, I know what fills the holes
and can see the picture filling the emptiness.
Could I dig up stories of other people's joy
to prove that all is not despair?
Sure, but why prove the obvious?
Instead I will give my brain room to bubble,
pluck the points I choose to dwell on
and two-step over the rest.
one almost smile is worth the day.
A heart breaks, almost heals
then breaks again
and heals.
I take mine out into the sun;
anyone repulsed by the scars
does not have to look, but I bask
in full view absorbing the light.
Some jigsaw pieces may have slipped
under the couch cushions, still
I can admire the whole, I know what fills the holes
and can see the picture filling the emptiness.
Could I dig up stories of other people's joy
to prove that all is not despair?
Sure, but why prove the obvious?
Instead I will give my brain room to bubble,
pluck the points I choose to dwell on
and two-step over the rest.
billy wrote:welcome to the site. make it your own, wear it like a well loved slipper and wear it out. ella pleads:please click forum titles for posting guidelines, important threads. New poet? Try Poetic DevicesandWard's Tips