I attempted to enact a plan for payback some time ago; and so with the aim of both brutish and reckless reparation, I tried my hand at vengeance. Yet, in retrospect of that aggravation and those lucid thoughts of vengeance, I can’t help but recall upon that one sobering moment…the knife snapping shut on my hand…the deep gash I still wish I had...my deep, dark, blood: teacher of a lesson in hatred and forgiveness. Scarred hands strike a chord in me…they always have a way of reminding us of our debauched achievements…our lessons learned.
Battle-damaged,
BR80
1 comment:
Heeeey, very astute assessment Chuck, you’re spot on! I appreciate the thoughts and remarks. Always much obliged!
And by the by, it’s good to see you bloggin’ again!
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