The soul heals the slowest of all.
The arms and legs break and are put
into slings;
the splinters are removed
the cuts bandaged;
even the heart has its
surgeons and its poems.
But where is the cure for the soul?
The soul suffers
alone
out of sight but seldom
out of mind.
It feels each stab of pain
in a darkness
that seems to have
no end.
The soul heals slowly;
inaccessible to other souls
who have the only medicine
to heal it.
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