Colours
When I spoke, my mother felt a boundary break.A dam busted and poured out.
I heard it not.
On a walk you went when your wounds I tried to mend.
I wanted you to talk so that I could listen.
Then my eyes saw a new, your dark colour; glistened
Alone you said you wished to be.
I could not let you walk alone; I did not leave.
I begged for you to share,
but in vain were my pleas.
If you were to speak,
you would be the one to release your sorrows.
We walked in darkness and silence.
Gravel underfoot and internal violence raged inside.
It was then you began to pour,
longing to feel your loneliness no more.
Your colour brighten just a shade.
I relaxed; a humble sigh I gave away.
What conflicted me most was that I saw not your worries.
I was too caught up in external flurries.
I tried to lift up your face,
to which you only turned away.
I did not mean to demean,
I only wish for true to become of your dreams.
You pushed us away,
Hell bent on going on in solidarity.
I could see then your bruises.
I could see your hurt.
I pray, dear friend, let not your tears hold back.
Bend not to wills of those who despise!
Pray I, that you may open your beautiful eyes!
For there is healing for those who wish to be mended.
Poetry by Sarah Parnes
Read 888 times
Written on 2015-04-13 at 05:19
Tags Healing Friend Colours
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