Scars On Our Souls

We play these little games with each other. We sift through the sands. Try to find something so precious. A winning hand. We smile and acknowledge through gritted teeth. The flaws of ourselves we accept of can’t be used by these strange nobodies. We spend our whole lives concealing our truths. The truths about one’s lies, one’s wrongs. We ingeniously always find the excuse for each scar on our souls. The framed outline in the mirror that we catch looking back. It is in the world of humans, a human with a left and right side. But, look deep into its eyes behind the face with the smile. It is no perfection, in those eyes there is no true light. It is at best - half wrong and half right.