Scars
They decorate my soul
like Fourth of July fireworks in the sky
Painted with such precision,
they delight in misery and
serve as reminders for battles
won and lost.
Every tear shed is a recount
of the pain inflicted on those who
fight and lose,
and those caught in the middle
are ones that could not do... anything
To choose is to decide that it
could be right or wrong
Not strong, I am within my spirit
But I strive toward the dawn
when the sun rises and the bright
lights shower me with glory
My worries leave without dancing shadows
to taunt me.
Wishing and hoping that someday
redemption I can have
So that the steps I take forward
carve a new found path.
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