Sad balance
Sad balanceI was handing out my soul
pieces of love, faith, light
but now that I let go,
I started to save her more ...
It hurts today, for every bit wasted,
from betrayals - friendly
I carry my-human wounds,
and scars of them to remind
not to repeat naive old mistakes.
The soul, always the most precious, pays
give from her - modestly
not everyone can keep it responsibly.
Poetry by Ann Wood
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Written on 2022-03-10 at 17:27
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