Sad Scars
For those tortured souls
Blades cut deep,
Yet sorrow deeper,
Some go to sleep,
Though some, not her
Sadness masked,
Let out in blood,
Whenever asked,
Words turn to mud
How can she speak,
Of misunderstoods,
To others weak,
Caught up in goods
A body pale,
A stack of scars,
A mind frail,
Turned black by bars
Each night a mare,
A daze of dark thought,
Innocence stripped bare,
By society’s lot
Blades cut deep,
Yet sorrow deeper,
Get scars to keep,
And a girl, weaker
