How
long can such corrosion last
that
wears and tears down to the soul
to
eat away the waking hours…
by
now it seems it should have passed
its
half-lives clinging, lingering on.
Cruel
entity that gained control
to
augment into monstrous thing—
where
anger nourishes the hate
it
manifests, exacting toll;
malignancy
that won’t abscond.
I
heard the words and felt the sting,
your
verbal dagger bruised the bone;
no
salve was offered to appease—
accelerating
to the brink
where
loathing and resentment spawned.
And
thus the seeds of scorn were sown
to
root and grow for seven years
till
animus has run its course…
Now
comes a calling to atone
will
peace be found in my response?
Too
long the anger has adhered
to
scourge and scar, insult, cajole;
to
mar the surface to the bone.
The
acid cuts through my veneer;
yet
in its tenure, I have grown.
The
time has come to cede control:
once
more I morph, becoming whole.
© Ginny Brannan 2016
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Thank you for reading my poetry and sharing your thoughts.