She lost herself ,she left us
A pile of diminished promises.
She left us, she left herself,
A box of mixed messages.
I’m a witness to a battered women,
Convict in the prison of youth.
She left us, she left god,
She’d never pray, cursing anyone with a cross-sectioned heart
Popping thoughts with aggression.
I’ve gone through this, from the start.
She left us, she left herself,
A bottle of empty tears,
Translucent and meaningless.
She used to be my rock, but never was,
She’s a part of something that I never had.
She lost herself, to the pain she called home.
How could you leave a teary child,
For happiness that would only last for a while.
You took the bruises like they were affection,
That’s the only home you know.
I opened up your heart, for a better inspection,
To find a concoction of troubles,
But I hope you’re home, in less peace and sound.
If your'e happy, it doesn't show.
This is a place of honesty, of growth.
Poetry is therapy.