Like a bad fall and your body

aches like road rash. It’s

bleeding now, we can’t do

anything. Somehow stop the pain

the ruminating over something

out of our control.

The silent rage takes over,

we forget who we are and let

someone else steal our identity.

Even sleep is persecution. When

will our heart and soul

return to soothe our nerves?

When will time let us heal?

Only then might some peace

become our silent panacea.