Saturday, April 3, 2004

These are my Battle Wounds

April 2nd 2004

These are my battle wounds
Bright crimson, like the juice
Of a crushed rose that has been
Pierced with its own thorns.
Faint lines – story lines
Blending in with my freckles.
Scars of sorrow that fade into
Joyous summer memories.
Contrasting stars on the surface
With the echoes of sadness
Emerging beneath them.
They try to fade back into the woodwork
But like tiny rips in the starry sky
They never go away.
These are my battle wounds.

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