Scars,
Scars,
So many scars.
All hidden by unmerciful bars.
They chain you to your miseries,
But protect you from the outside world.
Some are grateful for them
Some hate them.
But all have convinced themselves that
They need them.
But they do not want them.
Sometimes someone bends the bars
Just enough to slip in.
They notice you.
At least,
Some do.
Some of the people who bend the bars
Don't notice you.
Those are the people you don't want bending
Your bars.
But others
They notice you.
They notice your struggles
And your pain.
And slowly
They help you escape the bars.
And they lead you out
To a better future.
To the sweet taste of
Freedom.
YOU ARE READING
Submerged Stories
PoetryLong story short, this is a book of stories about my life that I don't tell anyone else, expressed through the beautiful art of poetry. Poetry is my way of finding myself, and hopefully you as readers will be able to find yourself as well. TRIGGER W...
