The Anchor

I look down at my wounds and wonder why?

Why do they keep surfacing on my arm?

I didn't want to fade away and die.

Life pressured me to continue this harm.

I am not even good enough as me

I plastered a smile across my face

This is not good for me, do you not see?

Desperate to find my haven and place,

My anchor came and saved me from this mess

My anchor is why I smile again

No more wounds to remind me of the stress

The anchor's here to help, to save, to mend

I guess my heart never believed I knew

That I had the strength to make it through

Reviews

[Emma]

Great job directing the emotions from sad and depressed to hopeful. Your poem really encourages people to soldier on.