Cerise
Battered and bruised
In days gone by
Blacks and dappled
Maroon
Days clouded over
But the rain came in
Trickling at first
Then the steady downpour
The water falling
Such a good thing
Cleaning and clearing
Edging things out
Washing away the
Unwanted
Bringing in the new
The fresh
Cleansing the wounds
Allowing healing
To enter
Those bad dark wounds
Tear up and cry
Suppurating no more
The scabs fall away
Even the cerise scars
Fade to nil
