Amateur writer. On the path of the phrase that says "practice makes perfect." Avid consumer of books that make me think, make me feel.

It hurts the heart

To know its destiny is to be torn apart.

It hurts the soul

To realize how much pain it had once borne.

And it hurts the brain

That you filled with empty promises and useless games.

And I know that there is somewhere safe.

Somewhere where it's dreams and not nightmares,

Somewhere where my smiles won't hide despair.

But it is unknown, where that somewhere safe is.

If you must know,

You have been the reason of all my pain.

And the void just grows:

My heart was vibrant and now it's plain.

My brain repeats, to keep me sane,

That all what glows must wane.

I thought that you were my somewhere safe,

But I guess I held the map the wrong way.

Still, I know, there is somewhere safe.

© 2017 H Bakerley