The broken ones see behind you,
They know what the tainted spirit sighs,
In shades of melancholy blue,
Passing over the color in your eyes,

You’ve shed the feathers of reason,
Denying yourself serenity in all things,
All the words and actions of treason,
Have stripped them from the bones of your wings,

You stand naked with your pain,
Oblivious to the bare disposition of your sins,
And though you’ve scrubbed the stains,
They continue to bleed through and sink in,

You lay trapped within the lies,
By the mouths that open without sympathy,
And no one sees the pleading in your eyes,
For someone to hand you some empathy,

Your blamed for reacting to the hurt,
By drinking a bitterness to comply with your own,
The brick and wood wasn’t the only thing burnt,
But that’s not for them to have known,

Your blind to the other roads there are to take,
And forgetful of place from which you came,
But I confess an understanding of how you can break,
When everyone thinks you are to blame.

 
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