There upon the shards of broken glass
I lay my cold and weary head
Each day I awake to find the various cuts
And the blood streaming over me.
I drag my bleeding body out
Of the deep dark hole I’m hidden in
I never meant to become the loser that I am
Or to lose my soul as my life passes by.
I count the painful cuts upon my body
As I peel back the festering sores
It’s not as if I enjoy the pain it brings
But I have to scrape it away to save my soul.
Tell me how to live without the fear
When every day I face losing everything
But I don’t think there is anything you can do
So I lay my weary head upon the broken glass.
©ronvdm777
Febuary 2020
©ronvdm777
R