Ornated scars

โ€‹I smile, I laugh, with words I play; 

Don’t you notice the things I behold? 

Stealing those black, empty eyes from your gaze, 

I show you all the bright colors of my soul.

For people here, ask them once, 

No word they utter against me; 

Only I know, with those stained hands of mine, 

How I manage to come so clean. 

Every bullet fired, reaches back home, 

Wounds are turned to art; 

They appreciate the masterpieces I make, 

With the dark pieces of my heart.

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5 thoughts on “Ornated scars

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