The “walking wounded”

Scratches, cuts, gashes, holes,

Some heal by callusing  

Perhaps accounting for the harsh, hard, injurious souls

Repairs with covering that’s lost all feeling

Developing a self-inflicted indifference

Mends covered with sensitive scarred tissue

Leaving empathetic but susceptible hearts…

There was a time

When light and life were part of existence

Can’t remember when anymore

There was a time when darkness was just a time of day

But that was  many, many years ago…

Eliminating

Bit by bit; it is what is prevalent

Perpetrators laughing and joking all the while

Watchers, annoyed or indifferent, silently contributing

Isolation

The existence, a chilling, murky, bare place devoid of interaction

Trapped ‘til minds can no longer conceive

Of pleasure nor harmony

Functional

The best to be achieved

How long functionality remains

Can’t say…

The tiniest of embers is blushing scarcely

Something to hang on to; to build on

Hoping somehow, someway, somewhere, someone

Someday soon

Will add fuel to the fire