Underneath My Scars by Chris G.

Posted: March 8, 2009 in Poems
I got these scar4s on my face
to remind me everytime I look in the mirror
of a crazy phase, my crazy ways.
Now-a-days life seems so much clearer;
still so far away, not getting nearer.
Need to be over there, but I’m over here.
These scars will never disappear.
They’re always here to remind me of a time.
I got these scars on my mind,
scars on my heart;
patched up where they’ve been torn apart.
 
We spend 85 percent of our time disguising
a 90 percent chance of rain on the horizon.
Can someone just look me straight in the eyes and
tell me what’s going on?  What time is it?
The ointment on my wound’s got flies in it,
swimming around in there getting high in it.
They might just overdose and die in it.
A thousand eyes peeping out from my skin,
my instinctive scars make it hard to get in,
but pull my chest open from around the heart,
take a look down into the dark,
move past the wall of proatective sheath,
and find yourself underneath.
 
    by Chris G.

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