Open Wound

Hidden in the secret place

Is a chasm far too wide,

A gaping darkness firmly set

On pushing back the tide.

And in this shadow’s grip,

Is a small and hurting soul,

Crying out for something-anything

To fill its hollowed hole.

An open wound,

A passing glance,

A stranger walking by.

A cry for help,

For any chance,

That daybreak might be nigh.

And one last time

This paining heart,

Lets ring a desperate shout.

When, finally,

The final plea

Finds healing reaching out.