Pieces of Joy

A Sunday Story, as a poem.

They saw but did not believe

that anything could be so dark and

full of shattered pieces cutting apart the joy.

Pieces of joy.

Then blood covered their hands

and it covered all of their screams too

and it surrounded them and was inside of them.

It was inside.

Pain dripped from guns

that dripped with so much rage

that dripped with the sorrow of broken years.

All the years.

Sweet life was leaving

pouring out of them too soon

becoming something else other than breath.

Be something else.

So they held each other

but it was so loosely because

it is so hard to hold on when you are slipping.

Just hold on.

And healers speak then and they say

that light is coming and don’t let go just yet

because the light is brighter when we are one.

See the light.

They say that coming out from dark

takes some time but it is happening and

you can feel it and see the glow that is your heart.