Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
When the storms of life are through
and the calm of age descends
as from skies now blue,
the jagged edges of our pain,
but by time and wear blunted,
are memories we look back on,
detached reflection
papering over the scars.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express It In Eight, 11.03.23
Prompt: Write a torn poem.
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