The Poetry

I wish I could write my emotions like lines of poetry

They would flow effortlessly and beautiful

From quill to paper they would be flawless

The would scream of unparalleled joy

From conception to infinity

They would bring the most hardened of men

To marvel at their inspirational nature

Alas, I cannot write emotions

However they seem to write me

My image stained to a page

Insurmountable burden laid across my shoulders

Wires wrapped around my legs

Barbs sinking deeper with every move

Hands lost in a sea of throned bush

Flesh ripped and torn at every move

And the most painful piece

A reflection in the mirror that remains unscarred

The wounds are to the flesh of my soul

My body intact and undamaged to the eye

Written in a poem never read

cbleakney