Comfort

Comfort

Red-blue tears which sting and blind,
Aches which last the day.
Peace destroyed by thoughts unkind;
Death looks like the way

And all these thoughts live on for years
Their message never changes.
With anger great and comfort mild
They echo through the ages

But each and every day I breathe
Is not completely sad
A flash of light, a warmth of skin
Give thanks for what I have

And I am wanted, and I am cherished,
In others I have trust.
At peace at last, I hear my only:
"You are always, always loved."

My friend wrote this. We're trying to get it published along with the rest of her poetry cos she's really good at it.
Posted on March 12th, 2007 at 11:25am

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