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Staramber's Scribbles: Poems

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The Little Secret

A raise of a hand a rush of fear,
Followed by a scream and a half hidden tear,
Ordinary anger turned to violence,
Bruises left as a testament of lost innocence.

No one remembers the reason why,
It was lost with his pain and drowned in his cry,
But the fear was left to haunt him,
A punishment lead to destruction form within.

They all turned a blind eye,
As he sat alone and began to cry,
His home was his prison his room his cell,
Being left with his own thoughts became his hell.

his story remained only in scars

Staramber