The wounded soul.
Wrote this three years ago.
Poetry.
Walk through life swinging your sword,
knowing not the damage you do.
No memory in self absorption,
only aware of the self.
The quiet stay that way,
desperately trying to change the world.
Nobody listens, until they look in the mirror,
shining back a million reflections.
All are facets of each other,
they are not you alone.
When you hurt, you have caused the same emotion,
often without awareness.
Think, if you feel, what have you caused?
perhaps more than you know.
If you feel the pain of sorrow and hurt,
don't create it in others as they also feel.
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