I was covered in prickles
The barbs of life's sharpness
Had entered my peripheries
Pierced underneath, to my core
In time, I grew around them
As a tree around wrought iron
In my humanness I adapted
They became part of my selfscape
Then one day, one fell away
I felt the freedom remaining
So I extracted with care and love
Each well-known thorn, reborn
Life On The Skinny Branches 
Perfect image, great words : )
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Thank you…I love the way life seeks life.
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It is something to notice their absence, is it not? 😉 Well written.
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Beautiful 🙂
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Thank you!
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