The _____, the Whole _____, and Nothing But the _____
The old fashioned jar
of handmade, garden picked, grape jam,
seems like a gesture of peace.
After years of disconnection,
years of regret and of anger pointed inwards,
this mason jar of purple-goo jelly arrives.
The day was but a frail whisper,
with a hot burning sun setting
almost as swiftly as it had arisen,
only proving how quickly you can go back
and change what seemed to have been set in stone.
Though the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth
hadn't risen from the grave on which he danced,
this innocent offering
made up for the spiteful words they'd screamed
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.