splinters

No one knows what it feels like
when a splintered soul
drive its splinters through your heart
when to blame is thrown so easily,
when cruel judgements
are hammered into the very
fibers of your being
it does not sting
its like nails at a sick mock crucifixion
a splintered soul’s addiction
and you hang there
your mouth still forming the words…
“Mea Culpa…”
But even then,
when splinters are deep like an abyss
and pain like a newlywed bride wanting more…
still love comes from unjudgemental eyes
free from lies
and an angel of mercy
take its wings
clothe you
pray
listen
words of worth and love
bring flight to a bruised soul
pick it up
set it a flight
a phoenix reborn from splinters of
judgement to wings of hope.

Believe in hope. Believe…

(c) 2012 Allen Simpson

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