Poem Written On A Scratchboard

Published October 12, 2013 by rlmcdermott

Sorrow is as sorrow
does, it holds the
hand of all it loves;

when blue is bluer
than the sky can
bear it lifts it up
and holds it there.

Come visit me
in this sad place
when what you
love has turned away.

I know the names
of all the flowers
they come to me
in desperate hours.Sorrow Is As Sorrow Does

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