A Poem: Broken Road.

Somedays,

I find myself wanting to hide,

To turn away from the world,

When the walls I’ve built collapse,

And, it all falls down,

I want to run for cover,

My fingers are encrusted with years of dirt,

From crawling, trying to find a life within the hurt,

The darkness masks what the light betrays,

I might look fine on the outside,

While inside I am dying,

The smile that you can see,

It doesn’t reach my eyes, it’s not me,

Some are faded with years, by time,

Others hidden, buried beneath ink,

Then there are those carved on my soul,

The ones I can’t escape,

Not all scars are seen,

Not all battles can be won,

(the cycle repeats),

This is the path I walk,

The one I’ve always known,

My crime, I care too much,

This is my broken road.

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Inspired in part because I can be a miserable sod and by the Daily Prompt: Encrusted

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