Days pass by but it’s hard to deny,
That my aching soul, screeches a cry,
peace on-looker like a passerby,
A scar on my heart remains a sty.
Seldom have I given a try,
to even justify or pry,
bleeding wounds that thoughts inspire,
swollen eyes crimson and dry.
Disgust faces smiling wry,
wailing roars deafens the sky,
trembling sorrow meek and shy,
helpless Mother, deprived a lullaby.
Forever sigh an unending cry,
ultimate farewell last goodbye.