Open wounds,

Open wounds,

Hidden by degrees.

A smile.

Painted over

The jagged edge

Of pain,

And drawn tightly

Across gritted teeth.

Tears masked

By falling rain.

Tracing lines

Through the grime.

The accumulation

Of a life time,

Bearing the weight

Of too many

Trials.

When does it end,

And living

Become easy.

Flesh tears

Too easily,

For such a rough house

World.

Having strength,

Learning to endure,

Wins no reprieve.

It seems to bring

It on,

More and more,

Attracting disease

Like a magnet.

Where is the merit

In that.

When will it end

If the meek

Are to inherit

They need

To survive.

Be more than alive

Be seen

As the stars

They truly are.

Every birth,

No matter

What the worth,

Can be the saviour

Of this earth.