Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Old wounds of the flesh,
eventually they heal
themselves, close over.
The splinter works its way out.
Raw flaps of skin close as the beneath
hardens, then softens into normal,
the invading dirt repelled,
and pain leaves, to eventually,
be, more or less, forgotten.
This is nature's way.

Of their own accord,
and in their own time,
decreed.

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