Marcy

No one knows what lives inside,
Each common mortal man,
With words as communication,
It’s still hard to understand,
None can see the inner struggle,
Just the outward presented man,
His hopes and dreams locked inside,
With the pain the heart demands.
 
 
Peace at times is non-existent,
Lost in words that no one hears,
Though they come an endless flow,
The echo of his tears,
Each day becomes another brick,
In a windowless growing wall,
While in the darkness late at night,
His fears forever call.
 
 
Demons visit late at night,
His rage a nightmare’s fuel,
As every emotion seems to become,
A ladder to being a fool,
Eyes are open yet nothing’s seen,
Unshed tears block the view,
As the wall becomes a barrier,
That only lets in you.
 
 
His face becomes a road map,
That path that leads to you,
As memories surround him,
And his pain becomes their cue,
A heart still beats inside his chest,
But it’s pieces become his path,
And if he sleeps through the night,
The soul it seems just laughs.
 
 
Dreams become his reality,
And that reality holds more than pain,
And when the darkness disappears,
Only his tears remain,
The wall soon hides all he feels,
And silence becomes the foe,
Though at times the silence comforts,
For the dreams that never show,
 
 
His heart is held in someone’s hands,
And his soul he no longer owns,
As a heart in so many pieces,
Beats with different tones,
Love is all that keeps him alive,
It’s sound echoes through his days,
With love more than a memory,
That at night comes out to play.

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