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Damaged Goods

by Nina Spink

Under cover of night, shadows steal,

disfigured and lame, two damaged worlds meet,
taking shelter within each others wounds.
Shielded from harm, a temporary respite.
The pain and hurt carried deep within,
parcelled and neatly ribboned,
masking the grotesque of the memories inside,
the resulting scars fleetingly glimpsed .

Toxins released in the inevitable purge,
disfigured and tortured, the soul emerges,
war weary and battle scarred.
Vulnerable and fragile stands naked,
quaking, distrustfully and emotionally shredded.

Slowly, apprehensively as a child taking first steps,
reaching out to a kindred mind, to be guided, encouraged.

The dark and frayed canvass gives way to a bright many faceted mural,
bejeweled grass trapping the morning sun
offering warmth and energy to the weary soul.
Therein lies hope of a new day,
a clean slate, devoid of the baggage of the night before.

Hovering clouds disturbed by the Autumn breeze,
breathes new life,
A promise of clearer days ahead,
beckoning new pastures, ripe fruits for the plucking.
A re-balance of the distortion in prior years of
the desolate barren land of backbreaking
that stretched far behind into the distant past,
kept prisoner within ones mind
Where only Straight jacketed days extended endlessly ahead.

Now, the gold horizon ever tempting in its infinity,
sends whispers to caress the heart and stroke tired limbs.
Therein lies a promise of self worth and purpose just for the taking.
Fear and trepidation ….bravely …. nervously
I stumble forward to grasp.

Nina Spink

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