Wednesday, 21 January 2015


That being shrouded and clouded
Gave me the space
A special place
To hide
Where all my emotions reside
It gave me the chance
To look at a glance
It also had me in a trance
I found compassion
My heartfelt passions
My loves
Floating on the wings like the doves
Way above
The past will remain
The bleeding pain!
Over and over again
What was it that I gained?
The rough edges
Splintered, tattered
Where nothing mattered
The precarious verges
Falling, falling
Ever further into the depths
Of despair
My soul yelling and screaming
‘What a pair’
‘Did you not care?’
‘What about those boundaries?’
Bleeding, bleeding!
The outpouring
From every single pore
Where I knew it all
Controlled the calls
With no morals
They’d left me for dead
Dead as a pan
Twisted and tied
Now the shroud
Is an adornment
And not an abominate 

© Teresa Joseph Franklin
21st January 2015
All Rights Reserved

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