The Echo Remains

The sting has left the memory,
in lieu of razor wire across my heart
itÂ’s a crumpled yellow page
in the back of a dusty scrapbook.
I no longer wince or ache
when thoughts lead down
twisted pathways of memory.
Even as I clutch the thorns
they fail to pierce flesh
but like an anguished cry
into the valleys,
the echo remains.
 

Todays poetry contest submission was written by Mariah E. Wilson.

 

Do you think it could possibly be one of the best new poems of 2014?

 

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