Passing Time
by Maya Angelou
Your skin like dawn
Mine like musk
One paints the beginning
of a certain end.
The other, the end of a
sure beginning.
Self-medication
My love, forgive me
I am a poet
yet I have not written
any for you
so far
I write with my heart
and indeed you have it
with you
but it is wounded
from battles in the past
and the only way
to expunge the pain
and to stop the bleeding
is for me to sew it
with the words that hurt me so
A Soldier’s Admission
I have long been hiding
I have to confess
this open wound
inside my chest
I lied
when I said I didn’t
get hit
in desperate attempt
to save face
I thought eventually
the bleeding would stop
the wound would close
and all will be forgottten
but it’s taking too long
too long for me
I need to fight
in another battles
yet I cannot do so
properly
Not with this pain
I would’ve wanted it
in another way
to keep my pride
but you’re the only one
the only doctor in this place.