"BARCODE"
Hidden Pain

07-29-2022
(Roseanne's Poem Collection)

I'll brush off the blood, feign a smile,
Camouflage the bruises I display.
Old wounds and cuts, a numb exile,
Their weight remains, though in the shadows they sway.


Then, from above, the sun's gentle grin,
A whispered conversation in the breeze,
Echoes the pain I've held within,
Each mark a canvas, a tale to freeze.


They're blank pages, pristine and white,
Until a line etches its trail,
A story anew, a painful rite,
Where hurt and bleeding interlace and assail.

I've tried to carve away my guilt,
Yet my heart remains ensnared.
Ceaseless battles that I've built,
Wishing for an end to feeling impaired.

I veil, conceal, why should I show?
My struggle isn't for eyes to find.
The pain I bear, a silent echo,
Free for all, but to none defined.

Concealing scars from prying eyes,
Yet their whispers linger, unaddressed.
"Why the marks?" Each question pries,
No foreseen answer, no key confessed