Heroes are survivors
they didn’t ask for it,
they answered the call.
The howl,
the wail,
the siren alarm,
All is not well
it’s going to Hell
Forsake us not,
angels of destiny.
Irony misplots,
displays
our foibles.
Still vulnerable
to love’s erasable ointment.
Why is love
still interchanged,
with tragedy
or impossible?
Why all the hopeless
variations,
the endless
barriers
to Love?
I agree. The greatest people came from the hardest life. Make them appreciate the things earned and given. A wonderful poem shared.
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Hi John, Yes, I agree, gratitude changes everything. I think people that have suffered and survived trauma are artists that are meant to transform hatred/pain into love/truth. Thank you for your kind comment and for reposting the poem.
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You are welcome Judy and I agree.
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Reblogged this on johncoyote and commented:
Please read the amazing work of a talented writer.
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