What's in a name,
But a reminder?
Of good, of shame.
Of the truth, the liar--
Who mightn't be the same.
What's in a scar,
But the memory of the blade?
The intent to hurt and mar.
Yes, the mark still remains.
The pain isn't gone, just banished far.
What's in an amount of time,
But going on with the hope to get better?
Only to be dragged back, silent as a mime,
Not fight in your voice, not a scream.
You go along willing, and forget to climb.
YOU ARE READING
Where We Never Look--The Forgotten Places
PoetryThis is a Poetry Book that I've been working on for almost a year. I write random poems when I'm inspired, so I hope you enjoy! #825 in Poetry November 24, 2016 #351 in Poetry November 26, 2016 (!!!!!!) #350 in Poetry November 29, 2016 #284 in Poetr...
