Once Upon a Time Poems

Group Therapy

They rummage for secrets
and trade
intimate confessions,
while jaded stories
clatter inside
the gloom’s nursery.

Souls’ dragged up roots
from the soft compost
of rotting weeds,
blown to bits,
writhe,
as slimy reflections
pry into Cyclops’s eye,
to tickle the sight,
to strip through layers
for sprouting seeds,
to lift the loss,
to find solace.

One sad freedom,
not for poetry,
thumbs up,
APPLAUSE
flawless,
aristocratic,
with distinction,
TRUTH has no regrets.