Facing His Past

A laugh, a grin, a cheery smile
Grinning, laughing, joyous while
The sunny, happy, peppy face
Tries to keep the quickened pace
Wounds heal quickly, or so it seems
Hope moves on from broken dreams
Life bloom fresh and all is well
See the smile, can’t you tell?
Life is good, life is good
Life is good, at least it should
Apparently be so, so keep on lying
Give fallacy wings so it keeps flying
But wait something seems amiss
The wounds I find here on your wrist
Blood not fresh, the marks not new
This is not the wound she gave you
Dare you look into the night?
The deep things hidden out of sight?
What darkness lies upon your soul
What keeps you from ever being whole?
The lights go out, deeper we go
The world is dark, with a warm glow
You do not recognize where we are
The light fades in, a house, a car
The car pulls away, yet we remain
A small figure outside in the rain
Not even two years old yet he cries
As he follows the car with tear filled eyes

“Papa!”

The word too strong for you to bear
You look away, you do not dare
Face this wound, there’s too much pain
You cannot stand it, there’s too much pain
Is this the ever wounding knife
That hides so deep in all your strife
Is this the fountain of blood that was sealed
Though never touched, never healed
That now one single, simple phrase
Could bring about your end of days?
The voices won’t be silenced any more
Mixing with pain through the same door
And soon you realize that everything till now
Has been trying to answer who, what, how
Trying to earn the answer so desperately
“Papa, why didn’t you love me?”