Cleansing Tide


			And so comes the pain -
			Washing in over me -
			Larger waves come each time 
			As the tide draws in on me -
			Making up for this time 
			That I have held all inside.
			The pain consumes my soul -
			Weariness and pain...
			I can contain it no longer!
			It breaks my featureless face into contortions -
			Into a face that has now become the floodgate
			For the pain that it has held back for so long.


© R. A. W. S. Clarke


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