Trapped

It hurts gently like the cold rain

I wipe them,

 the tears rolling down

and yes, beyond recognition

lies my past

with mixed shades of pink and brown

 where I stood at departure holding my faith

waiting for the moment

that never came

and will never come

because the verdict was announced

and there was a bedlam

and the fragrance of pain

is all over the air

so I get up and rise still in pain

because I am strong

to remind everyone

that strong doesn’t mean no pain

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

 

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