The sorrow of a bleeding soul

My words paints on the canvass called life,
It offers us the good and bad in all it's splendor,
Do you think you know pain,
If you do, then you know me,
I am am but a man scarred and broken by pain,
The deepest ones, even words fail to express.

Can you have eyes but not see?
Can you have ears but not hear?
Do you know how to push past the pain and see the finish line?
If you can do all these, then you are like me.
My words are like an arrow, always seeking, never hurting,
I want to tear open and shatter the dimension of my sorrow.

There are moments when I get trapped in my own freedom,
The times when the tears I desperately seek run away from me,
I live in an atmosphere where I breathe in misunderstanding and exhale disunity,
I am the voice of the past, the present and the future pains,
Tell me something about pain and I will show you double of it you don't know,
I type each word with fury and a physical and emotional hunger.

One day was all I ever used to cheer myself up,
You think you know the real pains hidden in my words, try again,
I am pain and and pain is no longer new,
Pan killers, anti depressants now seem like vitamin C to me,
What happens when what is supposed yo kill the pain actually brings more pain,
I hope happiness is mine someday again, but until then I bear my cross.

I know one day I will rise from the ashes, when will that day be?
I feel sadness engulfing everywhere but that's the least of my worries,
I know the sadness is little compared to the pain,
I have learned the source of my pain,
It is caused by the ordinary breed with only the tools of manipulation,
But instead of basking in the pain, I have decided to love.

Images are from pixabay