By Simonell Marshall
In a world of rough edges
That bend into sharp corners,
I feel like a round peg
In a world of square borders.
I watch as others rush past
Like frantic little streams
Caught in the current,
Somehow forgetting to breathe.
But I’d much rather
Take my time, as I ebb and flow
Moving with ease,
Tracing the web time weaves.
I choose to believe in goodness
Despite my many scars.
I stare at the depth of the night
To find the light of the stars.
It would be far too easy
To succumb to the cynicism of many.
Wounds left unhealed, often scream at me
But I’d rather not partake in that misery.
So I keep my rose tinted glasses on
And move forward through time.
Considered gullible by some,
But it is not a weakness of mine.
As relentless and eternal as the sun,
I may be a round peg
But I was not meant for the mould
I remain as I am, to fight the cold.
I’d much rather melt ice with warmth
Than turn to frozen stone;
Too cold to love, too blind to grieve
Forsaking all the beauty I’ve known.
My heart may be bruised and wounded,
But that is the beauty in the unspoken.
The tenderness reminds me I’m human
I may be bruised, but I refuse to be broken.