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Healing

July 17, 2010
By Anonymous

I don’t think it comes
Parading in
With brass buttons glimmering,
Gold trumpets shimmering,
High-thrusted chins.

The brok
en
ness
Just shrugs,
Slings his sack
On worn, burdened shoulders
The heart slides like a boulder
And he never
Looks
Back.

The author's comments:
This is a very personal poem to me, but I think it speaks to teens' self-esteem issues and the growing-up process.
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