Another poetry prompt...but this time the first line is a cliche. The title is an ode to Wes my former boss who at improv night during our church camp as cliche man could only remember "Cat's out of the bag." He then used this every time he was buzzed in.
My cliche is "zigged when she should have zagged."
Zigged when she should have zagged
was my unspoken thought.
The story of her life
She walked away her shoulders sagged
A tightrope walk on the sharp edge of a knife
truth hidden in night
The broken in spirit
Bitter, wounded, filled with inner strife
If I spoke would she hear it?
What to say to
The one in need
pain's past begin to disinherit?
But by word and deed,
By love given, and
The hand of helping
From all sorrow she was freed
(That was a real stretch there.)