marked
There’s no escaping the joy and grief of love. Everyone is touched. Each of us is marked.
marked
© 2019 pookie
marked
i woke up this morning
with a hole in my heart
a chasm, a canyon,
grief off the charts
why does this happen?
what gods roll the dice?
no answers, just questions
and paying the price
wounds become scars
love marks for life
kisses you gently
then cuts like a knife
© 2019 Susan Macaulay. I invite you to share my poetry and posts widely, but please do not reprint, reblog or copy and paste them in their entirety without my permission. Thank you.
