Can Time Heal All Wounds?

When childhood madness
turns you into an adult
and feelings of unanswered abandonment
skew your view on reality –
how do you discover true love?
recognize maternal instincts?
or reach out when the hand you want
is and has been given?

The pursuit of happiness
becomes a tangled web of
keeping close to the Jones’.
success is measured in a
flat linear world
where no horizon is found –
but failure is greater
than family for
friendship

In faithless bouts inside a glass ring
stones are piled with ruined hearts
arms reaching never able to close
the distance.
and loneliness
is self-created in fits of
captured monumental rage
followed by delusional guilt
v.s guilt’s unacknowledged
thoughts

The love for you is there
but faith must not be
a broken compass.
love can heal
and a garden can patch the
wounds.
scars and scarred over memories
can have a key or flower’d vos
left in the background of
recess – dealt w/ in a
manner that respects
time + forgiveness

I hope you reach out
before the nothingness swallows –
before Potters field forgets
a poem and the
war inside yourself
is left to just
yourself.

This world is not so
simple.
accomplishments + mindsets
are not summed up
with simple words
but instead wise actions.
time gives the body a choice –
it gives into heritage + bones a
chance to reconcile and breathe –
instinct + blood – souls passed
down thru the womb speaking
of + when
and now….

What will your present future
and future present say?
the all too soon grown child with
their own child growing – remembers.

Will there be a family tree?
a canopy timeline?
swings under the out stretched branches
and laughter passed down and around
knowing there was a time – but the circle is again
unbroken

OR

will it be what it is becoming….

a lost and traveled mind
realizing but never accepting.
realization – still
only experiencing this created
pain inside a lonely vacuum.

A loved one alone
v.s someone loved – moved along – gone
never whole –
2 fractured bodies
a timeline distorted and finished
simply because
no wise action was
recognized or
taken….

the blame
always – the blame……

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About Crazy Irishman

Touted as a working man's poet, Martin Durkin has been writing professionally for the last 12 years. He has appeared in over twenty anthologies across North America, including, "And left a place to stand on", a collection of poems and essays about the late great Al Purdy. Durkin has also published two collections of poetry, "Hypnotic Childhood", and "The Sound of Quish". Over the past 4 years, Durkin has been on hiatus for the most part but has recently come back to the poetry scene creating a poetry site called crazyirishman.wordpress.com, where in the past year he has written over 100 poems and created a cross over page on https://www.facebook.com/crazyirishmanpoetry where he gives a story behind each of the pieces written. View all posts by Crazy Irishman

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