Scabbed

It was small,

an irritant, a rough patch,

annoying to say the least

I had almost forgotten about it

It didn’t hurt, not any more

It was just there,

kind of crusted over and dark brown

So I picked at it, and picked at it

until it came off and

my heart started bleeding again

 

When will I ever learn?

Reviews

[ms. barrie]

Very insightful poem...amazing imagery depicting the heart's
Desperate need to (at least for now); illusion itself.
Yet, the mind/soul knows better...sometimes, the heart's
Ears...Take much longer to hear...even more...listen.

Love the emotional, striking imagery of one indeed
Picking a scab...giving the other person, yet another chance.
Very well crafted poem. Thanks for sharing :))

[willweb]

Thank you so very much BarrieJoy for reading and commenting on my poem today. I am glad you liked it.

[ms. barrie]

You welcome, Willweb. Was a pleasure to read. I now know to
Use bandaids ;)

[willweb]

Good idea. Little heart shaped ones?

[ms. barrie]

They have those? Lol hello kitty ones :)

[willweb]

Ok, deal. :)

[Vidya Bacchus]

We really should learn not to reopen old scars because the pain will come back .Excellent Will :)

[willweb]

Thanks so much Vidya for your true comments today. It sure does seem that way. Happy you liked this.

[Vidya Bacchus]

I did and you are welcome :)

[Ghost of Jupiter]

Can scabs be people? I loved this..but I already knew I would. Another great write from you Will.

[willweb]

Thank you so much Kalypso. I am happy you enjoyed this little piece.