Pain

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

When I came close
to you,
you took a knife
and began
stabbing me all over.

And
the pain
was so great
I could hardly
bear it.

But, as I looked
into the mirror
there were
no wounds, no blood.

But I felt great pain
and many stab wounds.
How could this be?

I looked again
into the mirror,
and on your chest
were many wounds,
and
blood was pouring out
all over
your body.

9 Comments

Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry

9 responses to “Pain

  1. Sometimes a strange and unexpected poem comes to us, and its full meaning only apparent after some time. I suspect this is one of those. I know its evolving power will grow over time, with me anyway, Ethel

  2. eremophila

    Reading this has left me breathless…..

  3. eremophila

    Reblogged this on Eremophila's Musings and commented:
    Words that reach out and grab one’s heart…..

  4. Scary Ethel brilliant poem. xxx

  5. Tanitha Smith

    Beautiful. Could be interpreted in so many ways!

  6. Noticing the other side of the coin can be a great revelation…

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