PC : Internet
As the needle pierced through
The cloth gave a sigh
And asked the thread
Would it pain....
Every single time
The thread however
Stood there beside
And kept smiling
A few winces
A few caresses
A few broken threads
A few embroidered patterns
And in the end...
The cloth wasn't the same...
PS : This post is posted as part of #BlogchatterA2Z 2021 challenge for the letter T.
Poem posted as part of the 30 day poetry challenge for the month of April #NaPoWriMo2021 and #ArtoonsInnPoetryParlour.
6 comments:
would it pain every single time, i could almost feel the prick
lovely- the pain made it beautiful
Wow. Pain and transformation so poignantly portrayed. Short poem but likely to leave a lasting impact.
The prick and pain were worth it in the end. That's life in a nutshell. Of course, we need to know which ones enhance us and which ones bleed us dry. A poignant and beautiful poem, Ira.
It wasn't the same but the cloth had grown, become more beautiful. Lovely!
Love it.
Our soul's cloth needs the needles of lessons:)
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