Poem: Dancing on Barbed Wire

Dancing on Barbed Wire

The war ended decades ago,
but the casualties still mount up.
Old walls crumble.
New ones emerge.
And even when the tears have ceased,
a battle between head and heart continues
and you are left dancing
on barbed wire.

About this poem

Trauma ends, but it doesn’t. Not really.

The picture was taken at an abandoned factory near Shusan, NY.

Tom

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