She holds on to the pain
A bitter curse
Yet living without it
Would be worse
Unshed tears can burn for years
She knows it’s true
But it’s all that she has left
To hold on to
She holds on to the pain
Sweet agony
There’s comfort in the wind
And misery
She wears her chosen sorrows
Like a cloak
Clinging to the fragments
Of her hope
All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin
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