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Poetry by Shigé Clark

"Let the battered heart rejoice"

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old soul

Theme Week: Old Souls – 3

Too Young

I have grown so very tired,
My back is bent from all the weight.
For my heart has grown so heavy,
Beneath the fearsome load of hate.
My frail arms can last no longer
Holding my grudges to my chest,
All my anxious thoughts assault me,
And I must set my mind to rest.
How the tired task of living
Wears like a sickness in my soul.
How I seem to hunt down sorrow,
Chained by what I cannot control.
Where is the song that I once heard,
The words of hope I once was told?
Help me drown out this silent scream,
I am too young to be this old.

– s. Clark

Theme Week: Old Souls – 1

Old Soul

Her soul was made
Of the scent of well-worn books,
Of light reaching the roots of trees,
And murmured conversations
By the fireside.
It was woven in knitted thread
And bronzed. Formed
Of steam sighing over tea,
And fingers softy plucking strings.
Her soul was a forest. A library.
The night sky. A song.
Her soul was a shimmering,
Bottomless lake,
Ever sinking
Deeper away from the world.

– s. Clark

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