Day Fifty Two: 13th September 2012

BRUISED

A bruised memory, the past.
With a heavy curtain drawn,
Hiding realities, throbbing pain.
To wallow in the now,
Bathe in fresh blood.
Yet, the future looms, tormenting,
Bright or dull, happy or sad,
Tragic or heroic,
Uncertainty its only stable mark.

Bruised: Pastel on Paper


© Dawn Whitehand 2012

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