A seed poem for Chalkboard’s Time to Rhyme project
Like cheap tea brewing in a fragile cup,
they let you steep
then wrung you out, releasing bitter words
you could not keep.
And as they spilled and stained, they scalded, scarred.
The pain runs deep.
I listen; there is nothing I can do
to help. I sweep
shards and fragments, wipe away all trace
and watch you weep.
A burden shared is doubled, never halved.
I do not sleep.
Each day I strain and struggle and each night
I work to break what’s wrong and fix what’s right.