Soiled Garments

He had a vindictive
wife once
who used his pliable
pledged heart

like an old worn
out hand-towel.

Wiped her feet
all over it
walked walked
all over it

then tore it
into strips
and threw it
to the garbage.

The funny thing is
old worn out hearts
don’t wash clean.

Soiled garments
don’t come clean
a single good soak

and clean
is not applicable.

Doesn’t wash out
all the stains.
Doesn’t wash out
the ground in pain.

Ground in deep pain
residue remains.

But time repeated washes
a good stain remover
love joy drying out on
life line bleach washes

old hearts clean with
radiant rays vibrant
sunlight sheen revealing
each days new wonder.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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