Little, innocent I was
Memories stonewashed but the soul didn't
It knows the pain, screams for help
Scars that can't be obliterated
Letting go is harder that attainment
Burden was mine for being young and ignored
Seclusion was/is I, and blues became acquaintance
Scars of a soul that knows not how to relay
Beauty is not easy to be preserved
Smiles that diminishes away in solitary
A bad mark guises permanent
Scars that can't seem to rehabilitated
Playground is for a soul that knows how to play
Guiltlessness that couldn't be seen by anyone to play with
Older was I at a vulnerable young stage
Scars that of not a knife
Stolen peace, heart and happiness
Now all I can do is climb a mountain that does not have a top
Ageing is for the growing ups not for those born grown up
Scars that cannot be lessened
Hope arose and lamented
Feels like there's no use in hoping
Invisible scars of a hopeless plagued soul
Scars of a soul are never forgotten.
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