Pain is not the slit of a wrist,
for the slap that forms a bruise.
but the shattering of a heart,
or a dent in the soul.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Of The Forgotten
PoetryPoems about people and things that have been forgotten over time
Pain
Pain is not the slit of a wrist,
for the slap that forms a bruise.
but the shattering of a heart,
or a dent in the soul.
