When the strings of the soul
Vibrate under the finger of pain,
And a well spring overflows,
A vent creates itself,
Or the soul bursts apart
For want of expression.
Tick tock, tick tick
Time crawls by,
Revealing a healing so slow,
Yet actual healing,
Then scars, ghastly scars
To remind on a constant basis
One dagger activity
Then another.
And life wears the garment of continuity,
Shedding memories not a few
For the sake of spouse or progeny
For the aim of success,
Against wanton villainy,
Crossing boundaries of obstruction,
Be-deviling impossibilities by and by.
Cajoling and mending what is left
Of a shredded heart,
Struggling to stay together
To patch up home and hearth
Teaching the young tenacity
In volumes beclouded.