ah, can’t get away from the songs:


Hurt: When I was little it meant a bloody knee

Or elbow, skinned scraped away, red showing

These days it’s internal, my heart, mind

Not unkind, I didn’t mean to be.

That road to hell

All of those good intentions

Not paying attention swirling into detention

It hurts me to hurt you, anyone

It stays with me for hours, days, weeks

It festers, like the bloody knee unattended

I’ve no enthusiasm for it, unlike others

I know them, placing a bullseye,

Pleased by the score

But it leaves my heart sore, so very sore.


end 12/21/2016

S. Darlington

5 thoughts on “Hurt

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