Turning Tears Into RosesA Poem by anne p. murray- LadeeAnne
One spring day in March, the year was nineteen ninety six A tall, handsome stranger crossed her path, Her scarred and wounded heart, he promised her he'd fix From that day forward, those eyes of blue, swept her off her feet She didn't listened to her head, her heart just skipped a beat
He asked if she would be his wife, he said he’d love her for all time She wanted so much to believe, so she surrendered him her life
Many years passed, she became lost to who she really was She knew not how, or why, or when she only knew because… She was
stripped of all her pride and grace, becoming a shadow of herself So many crashing blows he gave, some landed on her face One day he sent a forceful blow leaving blood upon her lips to taste
He stood calmly, cruelly watching her bleed He finally ripped her heart out that last, fateful day She listened as he blamed her, for doing his terrible deed He said if she'd been different there would have been no need
His love had turned to madness, his tenderness to fury There was no time to talk; she just knew that she must hurry
She bent down, picked up her purse and threw her heart inside, running fearfully into the night before things became even worse With bleeding lips and heart, she just wouldn't stay and fight
After many years, her heart and soul began to heal Each step she took, her strength was gained slowly she became more and more real Her bleeding wounds, her broken heart began to trust and feel The biggest lesson she learned above all else was... "To thine own self be true" ************************************************** *Ladeeanne~Anne P Murray 2011 we must not
stand back shivering thinking of fear and danger. that's what real courage is all about... turning our fears into roses ~~~ © 2011 anne p. murray- LadeeAnneAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
Stats
961 Views
2 Reviews  Last Updated on October 5, 2011 Author
anne p. murray- LadeeAnneBirmingham, ALAboutI'm not an extraordinary woman, simply put... I'm just a normal, ordinary one. In my private life I am gingerly cautious with the people I meet, but fearless in the words I write. Not an extrove.. more..Writing
|
![[send message]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](https://www.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing
