After weeks of nursed speculations,
After moments of hidden love and speculations,
Everyone hopes there's an improvement,
That finally they'll walk from the detriment.
The scars are scaringly staring,
Regrets form so long a string,
Yet they started it all,
And it had to be so.
Swallow the bitter cup you jointly prepared,
I bet you can't at all be spared,
But hopes still stands,
The truth with no strands
We hope for the best for the congregants,
With readiness to embrace what He grants.
Monday, November 24, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: art