Bruised
Blisters that burn and cuts that never seem to heal…beaten but not bruised, I hide my behind
a simple smile and grin. No mommy, I did not know. Beat but not bruised, I carried the
weight of a champion wrestler…and the scars of a fighter that refused to lose. No mommy, I
didn’t do it. Beat but not bruised, like a fireman in a burning building trapped between floors…
I wait patiently for someone to rescue me from my burning room. No mommy, they don’t
know. Beat but not bruised…As they laid her to rest some twenty years later, the scars had
healed…but my mind was forever bruised.
Copyright © Jay Anderson-Taylor | Year Posted 2010
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