A Wounded Soul Poem by Donna Byrne
A Wounded Soul
I look into the mirror
I cry at what I see
I see a young woman
Pretending to be happy
She's been messed around and hurt
By everyone she loves
It's hard to recognaze her anymore
It's like she's trapped behind a door
It's hard to live the life she has
But no-one understands
She knows she's not the only one
There are peopke who go through worse
But everyday she undergoes something new that hurts
She's been hurt in body and in mind
But still insists on trying to find
The meaning of life
The meaning of love
Before she ends up high above
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 10:14:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
The immense pain in this poem is evident. The masks we so commonly wear of which you also so elegantly speak, are our protection from those we can't trust. Like a wall to protect us from being completely exposed to extreme vunerability, we project whatever personality we wish to different people in different places. Thanks for sharing. You should read 'Mask' by Vincent Wong. I have a response to poem if you like 'Mask' entitled 'Reaching Out'.