London Poem: Day 66

22 October

Indelible crimes are buried beneath,
Unseen, but they breathe, still.
No pain will come from this,
As it’s folded behind the layered
Flesh that conceals everything else.
I want to live without pain,
Without the wild turn of the
Heart quaking under duress.
But, it’s impossible.
We bump and crash throughout life,
Hurting ourselves and others.
What’s more, where the heavy heart
Forgets to glance, is that
Without pain, we would never know
The great reward we quietly
Bring to one another.

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