Rid the Curse

Her soul so troubled at years so few,

She’s built a wall we can’t get through.

Closes herself to the universe,

Believes, from birth, she has been cursed.

Shuts herself within her room,

Buries her head in grief and doom,

Finds her relief through her own harm,

A shard of glass, she cuts her arm.

She thinks she’s worthless, has nothing to give.

I worry she has too few years to live.

Heart red as roses, in twines of thorns,

Disposed of Angels, worships devil’s horns.

Dante’s inferno, I fear she’ll fall,

Unless she begins to dismantle her wall.

I know too well how the darkness feels,

I try so hard to be her shield,

To save her soul is all but war,

Scars running deep to her troubled core.

Don’t let her go through what I once did,

Of her body and mind, let evil be rid.


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Tracy Windross
Apr 8 2020

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