Pain and Poetry

I walk with my wounds
Pain winding me down
Up and down
And all around
Poetry
The shroud I lay you out
Upon the ground
The cast of all my pain.
I leave you behind
For others may need
My tale
As I walk away
From my wounds
As I walk through the hole in the shroud
Where pain clawed and tore
A flawless hole
Through it such light fabulous pours
I walk through brilliant
Walls
Where pain loses its hold
And poetry makes me whole
Or perhaps
Poetry is what still glues together
This broken chipped down soul.