
The scars I have are veiled, they’re nobodies to see.
It is but an itching scratch that rarely bothers me.
But sometimes when I see another with his smile.
Or catch a sudden scent when somebody walks by.
A man lifts a little girl high up in the sky.
A joyful sound of cheer rings right up in my ears.
I pray for some relief but there is none to spare.
A knife pierces through me then,
I fall down and gasp for air.

Leave a Reply