So many scars are slashed across me
tears too many to number have been shed
Pain seems to be my constant companion
Misery always my only friend
Will anyone ever see past my imperfections
or find my spark that has been dormant all these years
Is there somebody in this world who can see through the masks
and discover the beauty that this weary soul posseses
My heart is tired of the rigid solitude
my mind is ready for the sun that only Love can bring
but if this hopeless dream shall ever be fulfilled
only the spirits above seem to know.
by Deana Rode
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts For The Lonesome
PoetryThis is part three of my "thoughts" series. Tale No One (Part 1) Thoughts Before Bed (Part 2) Thoughts for the lonesome (Part 3) No need to read them in order, just read what suits you best. Thanks for reading. Harry
