Thorns Poem by Vera Sidhwa
Thorns
Well, I never thought,
Anything could cut me,
So sharply.
I never knew.
The blood came,
Oozing out, the blood,
In red.
'Ouch, ouch, ' I said.
The thorns in my garden,
Filled with danger,
Were the thorns,
In my soul's garden.
Where the thorn resided,
From over many years,
Where he had hurt me,
So cruelly and so badly.
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4/23/2024 1:04:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
