Cloths musty from winters rain of despair need cleaning in spring's bright air
Dirt of months dark pain needled repair brings a clean jacket of hope to wear
Smell of sweat too cold to bathe prisoner of my coat I've been a slave
crust of dirt a second skin falls away a forgiven sin
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline)
- Published: September 18th, 2025 03:07
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 151
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, rebellion_in_sanity, Paul Bell, Tristan Robert Lange, Devender Kumar, 𝓱𝓪𝔂𝓵𝓮𝓲𝓰𝓱, Aman 12
Comments10
Well, I guess I can safely say this is absolutely stunning in rhyme and meaning, so much dignity acceptance and wisdom. Kudos my dear sorrenbarret 🌹
Thank you my friend for your continued support and your kind encouragement they are always most appreciated.
Brilliant as always! I am so in awe of your ability! Always a joy to read!
You are too kind I thank you for your reviews and most kind words of encouragement
Some poems leave no choice other than a resounding fave. The lines "rain of despair need cleaning in spring's bright air"- how I wish I could have thought something like those. But that's wishful thinking. The bow has to be to the master. Not a good poem, but a great one.
Rebellion once again you are too kind. Thank you so much for your generous words of support and encouragement they are always most appreciated
Good write SB.
Thanks so much Orchi I appreciate it
This is like out with the old, in with the new.
Yet it goes slightly deeper, and maybe forgiveness comes hard.
Thanks for the read and interpretation it is most appreciated
Soren, this one struck deep. Very powerful. The musty cloth and dirt feel like despair itself, yet you strip it back to hope. That final image...crust of dirt falling like a forgiven sin...lingers long after reading. Honest and redemptive, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thanks Tristan for your review and comment. It is funny the way that this poem started. I am just leaving winter here and without central heat it is as cold indoors as out. Sitting in the house at 40 degrees Fahrenheit is like a refrigerator and I would wear my coat like a shirt. With the cloudy, rainy cold impossible to wash since it has to be hung out to dry. After a winter without wash wearing every day morning till night you get the picture
This poem is full of emotion and despair. Its imagry has a sad and almost desparity to it. Nice job.
Thank you so much for the read and kind words of comment they are deeply appreciated
We can all move on into a new and better life soren.
Andy
Thanks Andy that is a beautiful thought and well appreciated
nice, the feeling of shedding the old and looking forward to the new.
Thank you so much for your review of this piece and your interpretation it is most appreciated
most welcome
Wow 😲 nice
Thank you so much
U are welcome
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