Wednesday 15 July 2015

The walking wounded.

Focused eyes, clearly fixated yet aimlessly wandering
layers of grime so familiar, permanently altering skin tone
blackened teeth upturned mouth, smiling easily
tiny frame, skin and bones, torn clothing, hanging loosely
limbs outstretched ready to hold, arm slung around shoulders
words profound honest, rich with meaning tumble out of mouth
this is the walking wounded.

Sit on the grass beside, stories will be told
your heart may hurt as you hear
the ugliness of daily horrors
the details will be sacred
the reality may cause you to feel powerless and weakened
but hear the words it's crucial
treasure the walking wounded.

The bravery of survival
the agony of mistreatment
the isolation  from crushed trust
the premature decay of a young person 
the hiding, self medicating.
the anxious personal protection
the absence of self worth
esteem the walking wounded.

 Acceptance of love and friendship clearly present
 kind, sincere courtesy for others, alive
genuine wisdom offered, articulated generously
 loving heart from the brokenness within so evident
learn from the walking wounded. 


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