In meeting a soul that is torn, the twist rebounds and renews,
Seeing oneself in another separates us from the mire
And together in a moments spark a rebirth in the fire.
In focussing on the agony that life portrays for us,
The world that glows around us feels a fraud that ‘they’ will see,
How can some one so damaged be as glorious as me.
The pain experienced is always there, it never goes away,
It is the thing that makes us, the thing that makes us whole.
But with the pain comes a mystery that will one day fall.
In recognising the halves that make the idiot in me
I must value the contributions in the making of our plan
And accept the ones who hurt me, and thank them to a man.



David Scanlon – England – (1963 - )

Scanlon. D (2016) The Poet, The Prisoner and The Fool. The Foolish Poet Press, Wilmslow, England. THE SPIRIT OF THE NEW. Page Number 19.



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