The Symbol Poem by Emma Woods

Such a cold soul
Sits still and alone
A heart of stone
A voice? A drone?
No tears will fall
No smile will curve
His eyes are open
They do not move
He stares at the symbol
He drew in the sand
His work of art
His talented hand
So carefully made
From deep inside
He'll run no more
He shall not hide
The scars on his arms
From a past war - time
Each fight - each wound
Each word - each rhyme
The shape in the sand
A heart - a hand
The words that surround
Painted with blood
The letters - so small
Bleeding to combine
The words - meaningful
These words are mine
The word 'alone'
The words 'I'm not'
The words 'broken'
'Devoted loss'

Tuesday 18th March 2008