My heart is pegged with scars.
Each scar, telling different tales.
Beautifully bitter scars looking like gars
That are made to live within the dales.
I don’t want to tell you the story
Of how I got emotionally injured.
Though it may sound and look gory,
But I’m presently uninjured.
I’ve placed myself behind the bars
To slaughter my mind;
Because of the raw scars
Causing wounds to my kind.
We all have a tale of our previous.
Good and bad they were.
Yes! To everyone, it’s obvious.
But their painful sensation, we can’t bear.
Author: Mayor Jake
I’m a full time writer of distinct genres of literature.