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The flashing before my eyes is blinding,
Maybe it will help me forget,
Wipe my memory clean,
Clear my slate,
No more scars,
No more pain,
No more dried tears,
Just the old me.
It would be nice,
To start over,
No more memories,
Just an older happier me,
Back to when I used to be happy,
That lovely time of innocents,
And of love.
What if you could go back,
Would you?
Or would you suffer?
I don't want to suffer anymore,
I want freedom,
But their is no such thing,
No wiping it all clean,
Clearing the scars,
None of it.
My scars will haunt me till I die,
But at least then,
I won't care anymore.
Emily E. Mehigan
| Submitted Date |
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Tuesday, June 19, 2007 |
| Submitted Date |
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Sunday, March 13, 2011 |
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Poets
