Scars of the Past
Scars of the past,
Are cut so deep,
Wounding my lonesome heart,
Making me bleed my pain away.
My arms sting so bad,
As if they were on fire,
I rub ice over them,
It only numbs the pain,
But the wounds stay.
Every time I stitch them up,
Something bad happens,
And they reopen,
Releasing more of my blood,
That drizzles onto the table,
Forming small dark pools.
I felt the scars heal,
When we were together,
But it seems happiness...never lasts,
I was shot down in my prime,
Wanting these scars of the past,
To disappear from my arms,
But you went away.
Kiss my wounds,
Heal them with your tears,
Fill me with your eternal love,
The only thing that will conceal,
Scars of the past.
Copyright © Robert Needles | Year Posted 2012
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