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Picking Sores



My heart reaches out with a kiss,
Just this, with you all I know is bliss.
Transformation is the way we grow
Yet we lack the power to let go.

Dredging from the bottom of the bin,
Forlorn, caught up in retched sin.
Who said it had to be them or us?
Picking sores only leads to puss.

Who is the one who loves you most,
The Father, Son or Holy Ghost?
All three for one and one for all,
Read the writing on the wall.

We all have secrets; they make us, who we are,
Weather we stay close to home or if we travel far.
Don't wallow in pity or in self-remorse
It serves no purpose other then setting us off course.

We will choose a path and take it without choice.
We will do what fate decrees and have no voice.
Legions of choices shall mark our labored way
Yet the choices that we make, we'll have no say.

A fool dreams of all the different roads he can take,
Of all the different choices he can make,
Not aware that choice is just an illusion.
Hopes and dreams bring naught but confusion.

As trees grow so do our souls grow, branches
Reach out and seek the sun, we seek happiness
Each and every one. Star-struck with egos made
Of egg shell, all the kings horses and all the kings
Men, we know the story it happens again and again.
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Submitted on August 21, 2014

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