Thorn

The thorn that hurts the deepest

One of its kind, I'm sure

To be stuck in one place, helpless

A thorn I myself picked

Tears you apart, and still

The thorn that hurts the deepest

A pain that cannot be scratched

Is not self-inflicted

But fate brought to you, as a reminder

Of what you once had

Holding on to photographs

Of friends once cherished and loved

As only memories of days

Forever lost

The thorn that hurts the deepest

Is the thorn still attached to the dying rose.

Reviews

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

The message in this poem really resonated with me. There was such a sorrow in its truth. And one that I felt very relatable toward. Thank you for sharing this poem with us.