An exquisite form of torture

To desire what one can’t have

A burn that lasts forever

No response to cooling salve.

A cut that can’t be sutured

Wrapped with bandages quite tight

Heart’s blood still faintly showing

Through the gauze at morning’s light.

No doctor’s pill to take away

The endless wanting dream

No ear could listen close enough

To hear the soul’s soft scream.

Though outward face is stoic

Inward mind is left to cry

The thoughts that never go away

Until the time you die.

By James Geehring

From: United States

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