The Price We Pay

 

‘Pinch me,’ I cried, ‘awake me from this dream

 I’m stuck somewhere between

  the place of love and loss.”

My losses have been many,

  too well I know the cost. 

 

Alas, I do not sleep,

too many hearts I keep...

  love is never cheap

 

 

Joining De Jackson at D’Verse Poets Pub today for Quadrille #193. 
A Quadrille is a small succinct poem of exactly 44 words. It may rhyme...or not. Today's Quadrille is to be written to include the word "pinch" in one of it's many forms.

Not Quite Faded

You carry the visible remnants

of pain endured,

fissures closed,

wounds still healing.

My blemishes mask hidden

tarnished through tears,

sullied in sleepless nights.

Scarred, broken—

two fractured halves

struggling to become whole again.

Don’t look too close,

    you may still see the cracks.

© Ginny Brannan 2016

Linking to d’Verse Poets Pub, where we are sharing our “Scars,” both seen and unseen.  This is a Quadrille, a new form for me, a poem of exactly 44 words.

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