Let words say what they say;
let them lay on the page as your soul pored them.
that was the state of your soul:
broken, hurt, limping among
the rubble of your heart.
But ruins are not a place to dwell. They are lessons, and
a tragedy made of crumbled hopes and vanished dreams. let
the ruins lie: Yours is the good earth,
rich with black soil, where a new hope might arise again.
— For Roger.