Haven
Well-known member
Lately I've been try to cope with things. I have been regretting a lot of choices. I like articulating my thoughts and feelings into poems that way I'm not just holding them all in. So once a again i made another moody poem of my experiences.
There he is the wounded man
Left to die in a foreign land
Stabbed in the back by his lover
Denied of help from his brothers
In his hands he carries all he has
Some broken mementos, bloody clothes, all in duffle bags
Its all the evidence of a past
Where happiness was formed then broken fast
In a foreign land he’ll start a new
It’s the only thing the man can do
He’ll lick his wounds mend his bones
Forget the country he called a home
He’ll forget the past and call it fate
But never a again make the same mistake
There he is the wounded man
Left to die in a foreign land
Stabbed in the back by his lover
Denied of help from his brothers
In his hands he carries all he has
Some broken mementos, bloody clothes, all in duffle bags
Its all the evidence of a past
Where happiness was formed then broken fast
In a foreign land he’ll start a new
It’s the only thing the man can do
He’ll lick his wounds mend his bones
Forget the country he called a home
He’ll forget the past and call it fate
But never a again make the same mistake
