quills unburdened cuts
small as threads
some words are better left undone
then said
little by little
day by day
but for paper they’re scars
that won’t fade away
each beat is stained
flowing with ink
but it goes more unnoticed
than you think
even if they try to mend those
they seep through
papers pages will never
be brand-new
The words people tell sometimes ,they leave scars and even if they beg for forgiveness... sometimes you can forgive but you struggle to forget