The Wounded Poem by Minister Peacefulpoet

The Wounded

How do I know
I see it in their eyes
I know by their lies
Pretending not to cry
Inside
They die
No answers
Only why

Hate to be so nagative
But the dead are living
Asking why
Inside
Only tears
I see it
In their eyes
I know by their lies
Only the perfume of a flower
Can make it right
If only they could smell it
Didn't have to remember
Didn't have to tell it

Pretending
Wearing the mask of the living

By: Minister Peaceful Poet (That's Me) 11/17/17