Walking, Wounded

To my care-givers – Angel, Sunshine, Leng Lui and Bobby T aka Peacock – who are ironically less than half my age. What would I do without you to put a smile on my face? With much love and appreciation...

Thank you, my dears,
For your indignation,
Your care and your concern.
The wound from that day,
'Twas but a superficial nick,
‘S healing fine.
A little outrage, perhaps,
At being so impudently maligned,
But on the desecrated hand,
No scar lies in waiting,
No wound festers
No sore, re-opened repeatedly,
Bleeds,
Quite unlike the other.
The latter remains
A little sensitive to the touch
But with time too will that heal,
No worries.
That it still hurts, sometimes,
'S living testimony to
Vulnerable heart,
Significant offender.
That I choose to stay put,
You may not understand now, and
Perhaps not ever.
Take comfort in knowing
That your presence soothes and salves
A heart that stays to grow
Stronger and wiser.