Poetry | Self-improvement

Transformation

Can you turn the nasty thorns in your life into fragrant flowers?

Image by dem-pix from Pixabay (cropped)

Tons of thorns, in our souls.
Buried deep, burning, clawing,
dripping life-burden tears gaols.

Eons of gathering testy thorns.
words and burdens destroying self-image.
Self-worth, a stranded shipwreck ashore,
rusting, carrying an “I’m not-worth” visage.

Blazing blunt-sharp thorns
piercing skin, flesh, and our being,
drawing blood. Drawing soul suffering.
Twisted taboo threads — digging daggers deform.

A negative cesspool,
warlike words — actions.
Mangled memories rule.

Roses and fragrant flowers
tore apart by thorn towers,
forgotten by ticking time power.

Tetchy thorns
a nous necessity
to learn and grow?

Can razor-sharp
flesh-tearing thorns,
turn into fragrant flowers?