SCARS

In that shutter island room faces away from the sun.

I pick my writing pad, pacing back and forth, all confused.

How can I write when there is nothing

Now my quiet mind sits there in the purple kind.

I think of what is over, forgetting the world around me.

****************************************************************

How can I see when all there is, is pain.

The scars on my arms are not as bad as the screams in my head.

How can I be a good a person when all I see is bad.

How do you justify an act of kindness, when all anybody sees is bad.

___________________________________________________

Graze my brain sockets and tell me what I am missing for my

heart is covered with scars and I seem lost.

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Elynjay,2018
(JOYCELYN BAAH).

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7 thoughts on “SCARS

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