Some Wounds Don't Heal
Icicles forming on the edge of the roof,
the damp wooden floor feels so cold on my feet.
The walls of this house, like the thoughts in my mind,
hold all the memories of what was our life.
I don’t understand why it ended this way.
The seasons have changed, yet I’m still so afraid.
Your body a host to a plague that had landed,
your fields were consumed till your body I planted.
Damn it I’m angry, all our dreams unfulfilled.
I’m told over time the pain it will heal.
Lesson it might with the passage of time,
but some wounds don’t heal, just a sad
fact of life.
Go on as I must through this life now with out you.
It feels so surreal like a fog that I walk through.
Your memory now serves as the arms that once held me.
I take comfort knowing you’re spirit surrounds me.
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Comments about this poem (Some Wounds Don't Heal by Alexander Beebe )
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