From A Wound Self Inflicted

How many days of sadness,
Have you sat?
With still no reception,
Of an inner peace.
Or a wish to be reprieved,
From a wound self inflicted.

You pamper it as if...
Holding onto it,
Will eventually...
Clear the air you breathe.

Who came to visit you with agony?
And you decided to keep it to host!

Who came to convince,
A draining of your happiness...
Was a duty to impose.

With a closing out of any light...
That has left you etched against a darkness,
You decided to select with a satisfaction...
You chose!

How many days of sadness,
Have you sat?
With still no reception,
Of an inner peace.
Or a wish to be reprieved,
From a wound self inflicted.

You pamper it as if...
Holding onto it,
Will eventually...
Clear the air you breathe.

And nothing but a suffocation,
Is all I witness!
All that I see...
That keeps you shadowed.

by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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