The Ghosts of my past.

December 29th, 2009-Wounded

And I can’t escape these thoughts;

My wounded mind bleeds,

Where did you go after leaving?

While I fell on my knees to plead.

Where did those faded footsteps go?

As I drifted alone, again, in the skies.

Somewhere, a scream, somewhere- a death.

Somewhere a broken heart cries.

And I don’t know who to turn to now,

For the world has turned its back on me.

I am not made to live here.

But in a place that someone will finally see.