A telegraph tapped from within the mind,
To warn our paths away from worldly harm,
Electric networks, threaded and entwined,
Protecting flesh through guidance and alarm.
Advising us of varied stimulus,
That consciousness, perhaps, has not perceived,
And every point our fragile skin may touch,
Awaits the cold reply of honesty.
But once our other senses grow aware,
And know from whence a wound originates,
To let it's trauma linger seems unfair.
Should not our pain more readily abate?
What purpose does it serve that hurt extends,
Beyond initial scope of injury?
It may be to remind us once we mend,
The lesson of our own fragility.
Written by: Larry Sansone. In order to hone my writing skills (and for my own silly amusement) I am launching the O.C.P. Project: one poem per day for one year. I started the project on Jan.1, 2011 and completed the last poem on Jan. 1, 2012. Poems will be posted daily, whenever possible.
4/14/11
