Remould

Corners of hope get the fire;

Are many ideas to play,

Perfection is tying its stray

While thoughts take me further away.

I wander in evenings through square

Of feelings which mind deep my way.

No heroes I need on my stage

Just hands which embrace the nights’ cold.

It may be the storm, but it’s told

The smiles bring the sunshine and hold

The power of kindness upstage,

The caring remoulds scars to gold.

@Simona Prilogan, Nottingham

Photo credit: Pixabay – marusya21111999

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