Wounded

WOUNDED

Wounded heart, 

Just a start,

Disappointment stirs,

Not the first.

Ready aim fire,

Not a liar,

Judge me not,

Starting to rot.

Painless flees,

Like a thousand seas,

Growing more,

Rips through the floor.

 

Look through the glass,

Marble-stained glass,

This is not the last,

Of the past.

Wounded soul,

Growing old,

Holding on to yesteryear,

Eyes brimming with tears.

Meaning of life,

Why strive,

For pride goes by,

A whispering lie.

Stone cold,

Now bold,

Existence sold,

For gold.

                                                                                                                                                                                                    Dixie