Where I’ll just feel bare…: A poem 

Now the old earth fills my wounds 

Can I imagine gardens with no paths? 

Can I bring forth memories 

like a plant brings forth leaves? 

I don’t pick at the relived wounds 

I am no feline with balming saliva 

This old earth trapped in the walls of my mind 

Its pain and joy and many a broken toy 

I’ve learnt history has no common sense 

And the present is a mere abused lens 

This old earth that was a mouth with many tongues 

Was it disguised love from above? 

Was it a blessing in a merciless trough? 

This old earth is a field locked in a hazy mist 

Like a mirage of vapour only risking 

being swallowed up by life’s heat 

I can catch a plane to somewhere 

But it could be in vain to dare 

to go back, where I may just feel very bare