Bruises of time

A poem

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

I seek the healing balm
to soothe and repair
the bruises of time,
my arm and my head
aching with dread
subcutenaeous scars are
the pains reminders,
Last thursday I had such
a bee in my bonnet!
rifling through my cabinet
(expired potions pills)
no balm to soothe bruises,
feeling so exhausted
weary in the passage now
the end nears and old
wounds still throb at night,
I am searching still
to find the cure, I know
though, time is the cure
that will close that gate
behind my passing soul.

CP 24