Time does not heal all wounds of heart and mind We learn, each moment, to stop touching the hurt A distance that we lacquer a layer at a time until -- a cure! -- a stone-walled defense against the pangs
As every raindrop traps a mote of dust And every pearl contains a grain of sand It is the pain we have on the inside That creates our outer beauty
I have been writing poetry since I was about ten years old. Much like Miss Dickenson, I have been hoarding my works -- not out of malice or fear -- but simply because there seems to be few uses for poetry in our society.
Poetry, though, really transcends more prosaic work in the way that a single image can transcend a movie. A poem can be easy to remember, to quote or describe -- while expression of a larger prose piece may be difficult when re-creating the full energy of the original.
In the commentary, I will share my stories about the poems. Please feel free to include your own. I hope you find the reading of these poems as inspiring as I found the writing of them to be.