The Stitcher Poem by Sean Furlong

Oh seamstress with your needle silver
Can't you tell my mind's bewildered?
Oh seamstress with your thread of gold
Show me what your skill beholds!
You mend your garments with such ease,
But how are you with memories?
Where some might look to surgery
I ask you, please, to work on me!

Can you mend this heart so torn?
Battered, beaten, scathed and worn
I implore you please, for me, consider
To stitch up my heart before it withers!