Gather my pieces
and take care the shards;
for they snag and snare,
fraying fortitude and ripping reality.
Try as you might to place the pieces
there are some that just won't fit;
jagged, barbed creatures,
rebels against conformity.
Grip me in your insanity
yet mind the thorns;
they know not what they do
with their stinging bite,
for it is their nature
to protect that which bleeds still,
bruised petals once warm and bright
now worn and wilted in their sorrow.
Let me simply borrow
your presence for a while:
I am battered and bloodied,
rusted and weathered
and steel strengthens only
with steel of like kind.
Yet I ask not to be tethered
only sheltered, if you don't mind.
Copyright ©2011 Spiritwind Studios Ltd
