Skeletons

I quietly appreciateĀ
Coming out the other endĀ
Of another day.
I'm more or less unscathed.
It's dramatic to thinkĀ
How damaged we are.
If it were up to meĀ
Those skeletons we collect would stayĀ
At the bottom of the closet.
But come out they must!
And it kills me.
Skeletons comfortableĀ
Old socks god knits for us.
I would think to gather everyone's upĀ
And have a big burning ceremonyĀ
Skeletons blackened, chard.
Everybody's fresh start.
People would stand aroundĀ
Feeling the weight lift,
Smiles, ointment on skin.
People would have reliefĀ
And the belief in themselves rise up
As a balloonĀ
The child holds within.
I will circle the fireĀ
A liberator, a tiger watching overĀ
And kneel not to fear
Any longer than forge forward wiser,
Stronger.
Ā

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Comments
Beautiful, and very familiar as I'm a tiger, absolutely you have one looking over you and your poems that truly speak from a soul to each soul who then reads, you know I quite like my skeletons it's true that without them, we wouldn't be who we are today. Another fantastic peice of poetry which is also inspiring and shaking the skeletons of your reader. Brilliant like your last words say. š¹ I'm really enjoying your poems dear Rory. š¹Ā
Giggles when I read about how we wouldn't be who we are now without our skeletonsĀ
More than one meaning, I'm now giggling too. lol š¤£Ā
Shirley nailed itĀ x