"You'll be just fine!"
The Mother said,
that day we fell
and hit our head
and lay upon the
cold, hard ground,
(We still can feel
that cracking sound.)
And though the
scar is really small,
It's Mom's cold
heart that we recall.

"You'll be alright!"
The teachers say,
tomorrow's just
another day,
(to feel the suffering
and the pain
that lack of love
we seem to gain).
And though the
scar is but skin deep
It's teacher's words
We'll always keep.

"Are you okay?"
The Friends would ask,
while snorting coke
and smoking grass,
to numb the hurt
and soothe the cries
(and mask the face
of fears and lies).
Cause now the wound
is deep within
We've saved ourselves!
You can't come in!

...sigh...

"We've turned out fine."
We'll have you know,
At fourty-five
we took the blow,
the death attempts
to our own self,
have now been put
up on our shelf.
Memories built
on scars and pain
will haunt in darkness
if contained.
We found life safe
and worth the fight,
when hearts are warm,
endearing...
bright.