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Thursday, April 7, 2011

Sorrow

Sorrow is like spreading salt on my skin.
It never recovers as long as it is a wound.
It becomes callous once it is cured.

1 comment:

  1. Dear Black Ironman, you really capture the intense side of sorrow in this poem. I have often felt sorrow to be sweet and might indulge in being sorrowful from time to time. Your sorrow being like "salt on my skin"--well that is quite painful. I find it intriguing that you have illustrated your poem with an image the crucified Christ. Do you possess calluses from such "cured" wounds?

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