Budding Blues

Underneath the eyes lies a mournful sorrow
Call it inexperience, call it innocence
My past stays hidden in tommorow
Kicked, beaten and disfigured by your influence
Not worthy of your time, consideration or appreciation
A wound left to heal by corrupt intent
Suffocated in my helpless imagination
Cut deeper than any knife or blade and yes to that extent
Exhaustion keeps me up at night
Or maybe the thought that I've lost you has
What can I do, but to disagree and fight
Don't take this as malice or for me to harass