The Essence of Hurt
A Christmas tree is a fake that's soon revealed,
for under the tinsel, a dead tree's concealed.
When a man sheds his thorns, is he not a rose
wilting inside, waiting for his wounds to close?
A powder keg of emotions set to blast,
anger rebuffs efforts to forget the past.
The core of my heart was shaken by deceit,
resonating betrayal in each heartbeat.
Instead of happiness, in my heart and soul,
there's an emptiness that nothing can console.
And while hope withers on the vine, the lies start
devastating my heart as trust falls apart.
Struggling to deal with anxiety and strain,
my heart lies vanquished, abandoned to its pain.
And overwhelmed by hurt, it's drowning in tears;
floundering in an ocean of daunting fears.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
