Grief ferments,

bubbles over and burns trails in the soul.

It does not get better with time, as sweet consoling words promised.

The griever just gets stronger; memories pour soothing balm on burns.

The tracks of bitter tears remain, hidden behind smiles and aching heart.

 

 

 

 

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About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
This entry was posted in A River of Stones, aros, short poems and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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