His Gift

Welling up with freak and regret,
his tears let me know he was still there.
My bruises havent' always healed as well
on the surface, but as least I knew we was
still there.
Flashbacks scurried across the glass of me eyes
Seeing smiles and giggles
He was still there
I continue to reassure myself as his lips parted,
and his voice breaks free
He spoke of his father, and the bruises he
grew up with
He swelled with pride as he mentioned my name
Our brusies, coming from a different person,
really were aching one in the same
Not a dime spend of waster on that prideful day
He spoke the words I've been waiting years
to hear him say
Please forgive me for those bruises,
years upon years of tears
My gift for you was neighter bought nor borrowed,
but given from a forgiven heart.

Reviews

[armadillo]

Because of your Beatles reference and because I ligve just next to Liverpool I somehow accidentally read this outloud , quite quickly in a scousish accent- and I really liked it- could be a really good performance piece- can't give too much more constructive criticism at this point as I has a very subjective introduction to the peom- but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

[Blue tailed kite]

It is a very meaningful poem. Loved it.

[EILEEN McGUINNESS]

A very powerful and thought provoking poem which really touched my heart,in a sense here there is the pain of physical torture and the bruises to match but in real sense i think the psychological scars will never heal,i am of the belief that time doesnot heal all wounds we just think less of the pain others inflict on us.
We still hope that the person might seek redemption and solace and maybe we can forgive but usually forgiveness is all they might receive never to forget completely.
Well done on writing this poem whether it be from real life or fantasy you have painted an interesting picture.

[Dittobug]

What a tragically beautiful poem. A man asking for forgiveness for abusing his loved one. As for grammar, on the fourth like it stated, "we was"... It should be "we were". On the sixth line it should be "my eyes." Unless, of course, you are aiming for an accent for some sort, then I could totally sense that...

Ah, forgive me. I'm really only half a grammar Nazi. I only point out errors when I feel like it... I'm lazy, meh.

Again, beautiful poem. :]

[cest la vie]

This reads like a heartfelt Spoken Word piece.. The emotion and care within the lines just screams to be recognized. Bruised, battered, hurt, yet ever hopeful.. Very nice piece!!