Isn’t funny?
To watch a past we can’t repair.
To paint away guilt and pain,
to simply turn our backs—
then walk toward new avenues still untouched
It’s so funny how we always forgive.
Until the pen touches the paper,
forbidden tears let go for the first time.
A new avenue still untouched,
the path moves on…
I think it’s quite funny how we can’t let go--In love
with memories 18 years in age going on 19.
To pull out and play with, then set aside,
two steps forward, still untouched, the avenue remains.
I stop laughing only when it’s no longer funny.
Thirty-seven scars on a left arm that couldn’t get away,
blood streaming down the dogs face because he barked.
Battered, torn, the avenues she touched.
I haven’t got the know how to repair the memories…
I’m angry!