Poem -

Skeletons

I quietly appreciate 
Coming out the other end 
Of another day.

I'm more or less unscathed.
It's dramatic to think 
How damaged we are.

If it were up to me 
Those skeletons we collect would stay 
At the bottom of the closet.

But come out they must!
And it kills me.
Skeletons comfortable 

Old socks god knits for us.
I would think to gather everyone's up 
And have a big burning ceremony 

Skeletons blackened, chard.
Everybody's fresh start.
People would stand around 

Feeling the weight lift,
Smiles, ointment on skin.
People would have relief 

And the belief in themselves rise up
As a balloon 
The child holds within.

I will circle the fire 
A liberator, a tiger watching over 
And kneel not to fear

Any longer than forge forward wiser,
Stronger.
 

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Comments

author
Shirley Harrison

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. 🌹 I'm really enjoying your poems dear Rory. 🌹 

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author
Rory McGinlay

Giggles when I read about how we wouldn't be who we are now without our skeletons 

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