Dumb Mouths
by sloanranger
Would they could speak,
your wounds -
poor dumb mouths.
And I could tell
them,
be still
no guilt,
it's all gone.
No need now
to punish yourself.
Shhh...
Let me place my love on
your pain;
use it as dressing
wrapped round,
lips pressed down
to quit
your silent screams.
Shhh, poor dumb mouths...
I have heard you.
YOU ARE READING
Passing Strange
PoetryA collection of poetry dealing with love in all its stages. I hope you discover something to your liking.
