Oftentimes the most gorgeous pictures
hanging on the nicest walls
are covering the ugliest holes
and crookedest nails that there ever,
ever was

Those pictures get knocked down,
sometimes, and they tear out those
wretched hooks, and all that’s left is
the scars that were once hidden by
their beauties

I will not despair, however, when those
blemishes come to bear:
for though that frame may never hang
again, it will certainly
lean against the wall atop my
mantle