In the mirror of my thoughts,
I see refections of me.
Different times and places,
Squeezed into one setting.
Left are no traces, just a scar.
We seem to be able to hide
The wounds life can inflect on us
And yet keep a smile on our mug.
Time has a way of hiding
The many episodes of hurts.
They just seem to vanish
And are not carried for long.
Ron
Fine writing and thoughts.
Lady Mary Ann
Love ya!
Jane