Words

It was 77 and the world was new

He owned a horse of clay

A crooked eye and a dream

To be a man who rules himself

It was 88 he had it all

The flower in the morning

The light of the night

The dream was born

The diesel spilled

On the carpet floor

They took her light

They killed his soul

It was 19

He remembered

It is 20

He remembers

The screams

Which made him forget

The echo of her agony

Which makes him forget

The bitter taste of the fear

Which made him forget

the calm envelopes

Stretching to embrace

Its touch a new discovery

Among the complexity inside

Revealing the sunrise

Waiting to warm when

Hatred succumbs to forgiveness

Of what he must never again

Forget.

The silent spring of peace

Caressing gently

The anger the pain the fear

To reveal again the light

Through the crack

Which lies in everything

(C) frankie Mcgivney

Words are my strength they heal inside they bring laughter and smiles they are the ones to restore the soul they took away

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