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

THE LEGAL STUFF

You are free to print, copy or publish any of my poems for education and or charity without my permission (but - send me a note if you have the time). You are not free to print, copy or publish any of my poems for profit without my written consent. You may link my poetry to your website freely without my consent (but if you do, an email would be nice).  Always be sure to give credit to Minister Peacefulpoet (the word witch), otherwise known as Roger Harkness.

Email ministerpeacefulpoet@ministerpeacefulpoet.org

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