They’re broken now, white doves of peace,
Bought with high hopes of mending what was shattered,
I never meant for it to be,
But for you my words were just too much to take.
I was not like you.
I could not be your clone.
I placed them there, white doves of peace,
I wanted you to understand,
But for you these birds
Spoke not of restful things.
I could not move you,
Your face set hard like stone.
blindwilderness.wordpress.com 
Sometimes I think the more one has to offer ones fellowman in the way of constructive insight, the oftener one has this experience.
LikeLike
Hugs Lorraine! There is such deep pain in this poem…
LikeLike
wonderful lorraine, but so sad! ❤
LikeLike