It’s like moving mountains.
In the end I might manage,
but I can’t put you back
the same way you were before.
There will always be gaps,
and even filled with silver,
or gold,
they’re the evidence
of scars I made
on your skin and your bones.
Too deep and clear
for me to pretend they don’t exist
and too new
for you to forget them.
Quick poem in response to Daily Prompt: Mountains
Wow! nice one………………..!
Thank you. 🙂