We all have bruises and hurts
Some cut in deeper than the rest
Scarring us forever
A gash, a scar, a bleeding scrape
Evoke immediate sympathy
And while they hurt, in the now
They fade away, pretty often
But other scars leave no signs
On our bodies, and yet
Hurt and gnaw at our soul
With unmarked bruises, painful forever
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Unmarked bruises welt, not black, not blue - but red, the color of anger, resentment and pain. ‘Tis easier to hide red than black and blues!