Repairman
He rose from the ruins,
Scarred though he was,
Of the house she destroyed.
Tentative this new construction
Rising out the ashes.
Each brick cemented in with care.
Built from blood, sweat, tears and joy;
Sweetly leavened with a touch of love.
A work in progress never complete
Yet not his house alone,
For we are all formed by committee.
Everyone who touches our life,
A parent, teacher, lover or friend.
For at intersections where we meet
A brick, window, door, plank or nail is added.
Some good, some bad.
Adding or subtracting to the whole.
We bear the scars and survive.
poem by Paul Brookes
Added by Poetry Lover
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