Though weary cracks may appear,
and like burning coals they start to sear.
Acutely twisting the knife, that little bit more,
All intending to settle my moody score.

Designed to open up scars that are so deep,
They bring forth tears, that see me weep.
As well as creating a cloud that fogs my mind,
In a multitude of ways, so cruel and unkind.

And try as I may, to find a way,
To escape this madness, and live day to day.
Struggling to push these feelings out, all the while,
I try to paint on a fakery kind of smile.

Grief and memories come back to bite,
Even when I try even harder to fight.
They push out my past feelings of joy,
In their mission to seek out and destroy.

Yet I know deep down in the recesses of my heart,
Where one feeling ends, another will start.
So I hang on to this pearl of hope,
Knowing that it's the only way I can possibly cope.

Some day these troubles will seem far away, 

hopefully that's where these feelings will stay.
A distant memory, a buried trouble,
Hidden away in my sorrow's rubble.

Replaced with much joy and pleasant stuff,
To help when life gets a little tough.
And when my troubles eventually depart,
A future of hope will inevitably start.

_

Karen Burns is 49 and lives in Coventry, England. She is a graduate at Warwick after completing a Social Studies degree. Her interests are reading, poetry, writing reviews and she has a blog all about her daughter who has an eating disorder.