Once flying high
Anchored even in a storm
Now ripped apart
Dropped like a stone
Who can mend
What has now fallen?
Who can forgive and release?
Once an anchor through the storm
Now torn free from its’ moorings
Drifting on endless seas
Dropping like a stone
When storm billows roll
Is there hope to mend life’s canvas
To stitch our souls back together
Or has absence become fonder than presence?
Is it too late for us?
I wrote two versions of this poem – Do you prefer version 1 or 2 and why? I would love to have some feedback.
© Michelle Sherlock 2014