Small splinter pierced my skin

So thin I cannot see

Yet lightest touch on finger tip

Becomes my instant enemy

I search but cannot find my foe

That lights my life with pain

All else is placed aside

All focus now to quell the same as if my life depends on this

This splinter of my hour, my day, my come what may to find

This tiny thing is so much less than loss that entered me

That I may never see or wish to loose:

My loss and love of you

. . .

There are no words, no answers, but sharing our love with those who remain seems one way to lesson the hurt we feel so often and so deeply when profound change comes our way.

ORIGINATOR · Mike de Sousa

ART FORM · Poetry

COMPLETED · 2024

Free to enjoy. Copyright maintained. Not to be used for ai or commercial gain.