Though stick and stone
may crack the bone,
strong words doth pierce the soul.
Though bones may mend,
tis sadder then,
hearts ache to ages old.
Though flesh shall heal,
grow deeper still
such lashes whipped from tongues;
though brushed like ash
from flinching eyes,
burns deep the pain unsung.
With calloused hands,
hourglass sands
should tumble to their place;
no help from Time
casts hurt aside -
the unforgotten face.
Burdens below,
still on it grows,
the dark that hides inside;
no one shall know,
I'll never show,
this broken heart of mine.
Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 4:11 PM UTC
Though stick and stone
may crack the bone,
strong words doth pierce the soul.
Though bones may mend,
tis sadder then,
hearts ache to ages old.
Though flesh shall heal,
grow deeper still
such lashes whipped from tongues;
though brushed like ash
from flinching eyes,
burns deep the pain unsung.
With calloused hands,
hourglass sands
should tumble to their place;
no help from Time
casts hurt aside -
the unforgotten face.
Burdens below,
still on it grows,
the dark that hides inside;
no one shall know,
I'll never show,
this broken heart of mine.
