The Unwritten Soul Of P.T.S.D Poem by Sharron Stephenson

To watch a movie about the life you live,
Starring the pain your heart, caused by the footnote,
Of guilt. The back up dancer in your mind is the worry,
About the unwritten words.
The steps of hate and love follows the raw lack of,
Pride and worth. The sense of joy rolls into the,
Eyes of stress and nightmares. To sit on the fence and,
feel like the scores of the world could swallow you,
Through the deepest darkest hole of loneliness.
The scars you wish would wash away like the,
Black and blue marks on the soul of P.T.S.D.
The road through the tainted glass of recovery starts,
With a crawl to a sign of openness to the acceptance,
Of help. The call of a number, the kind voice you hear,
The first face you see could be the hand that leads,
You, to the jungle of here and now. The bends and twisted,
Thoughts of this may never end, will become clearer as the,
Hurdles becomes easier to jump. The battle cry. The,
Movement of the circles that follows the roundabout,
Doubt. The tears of water flows down the shores end,
Could be the fears streaming away.

The radio of sound. The walk towards the light of,
Faith, takes a lot of strength and history.
To be stranded feels like a whirlpool of depression and,
The shadows of human tears of paper tricks. No,
Matter long the tracks maybe you will be always,
Be marching forward. The memories may or may not fit,
In one part of the jig-saw, but land in many.
To comb the silent bombs of east or west when the,
Wounds of bleeding red are playing with the emotions,
Of women and men.

To feel the thunder strike the wind of hope,
And dreams of P.T.S.D.
In the pause of reading of peace and quiet.
To scroll the through the laughter and the,
Reasons of why and how.

The guide of your wisdom and the pin point,
Nails of yes or no, to cross the floor of heat and,
Control, and the destiny of age and friends.
A tapestry of marriage of healing and failing,
The failing and healing of P.T.S.D