Sunday’s Poetry Post




Bonds are broken,

Harsh words spoken,

Nerves stripped bare,

Ripped past repair.


Stones are thrown

Leaving each alone.

Doors slammed shut,

Sacred vows cut.


There’s no crumb,

Nothing but numb.

Hate’s a feeling

Not worth stealing.


Time won’t heal

Every raw deal,

Nothing’s in stone,

The journey unknown.


About John Northcutt Young

I write. Remember making-up stories from spelling words in the fifth grade. A journalism degree followed. Thanks for looking.
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