WHEN I WAS 19

When I was 19,

I sat to take a thorn out of my hand.

Blood bled from the wound and I wondered if it would heal?

It did, but left a scare.

I faced a woman, I once loved

and she slapped my face,

But it was her tears that fall from my eyes,

And I turned before they fell

When I was alone,

I was 19,

And the woman remains my thorn.

copyright 1996