bloody hands grope for paths
that blind eyes will never see
bruised feet stumble over obstacles
trying everything just to achieve
as always there is the war within one's self
to reinvent the image of who and what we are
but when that drive becomes a force of disrepair
we must remember that we all bear scars
Quivering lips confess truths untold
knees tremble as emotion begins to tumult
turbulent eyes conceive brutal images
as a troubled mind digests the end result
To begin the healing process one must always
start with confession, they said its not a quality
but rather a lesson we learn along the way
and this is my meager attempt: I failed. again today.
Author notes
Written November 3rd, 2005
What did you think
Comments
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Very impressive. Enjoyable read.
Sorry about not commenting last time, i had to go.
Nice poem. I really liked it.
Fallen
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