dead cupid

We all carry them, 
These figments of moments gone by 
That shall haunt our very breath 
And stunt our movement 
Up, to another landing of comfort. 
Scars exhibit themselves in so many ways, 
From the crying each day 
To the courageous acts we do for another. 
Scars…they bring us humility. 
They bring us ambiguity 
Within the attempt to build our lives on solid foundations. 
How solid is a fountain of tears? 
What type of footing can we hold onto 
Within the quicksand of emotion? 

Scars are our notice to society that we have lived. 
We have loved. 
We’ve been betrayed 
Or have been the betrayer. 
Our fountain of youth is now a memory 
Of all that could have been, 
The possibilities beyond the sin. 
The flourishing fountain of youth that is now illusion, 
A dried up puddle of dreams, within the hardened earth of our reality. 

It seems impossible to hide the scars. 
As hard as we try, 
We cannot deny they are ours. 
We should always exhibit them proudly 
For they are our legacy, 
Our humanity, 
Our vulnerability as earthly muses, 
Our outcry upon earth of its beauty, 
Beyond the abuses. 

©5/11/2014 Pamela Hope







~ by Pamela Hope on May 12, 2014.

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