I Am the Wasted Life

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I am the wasted life that relies on hollow pain,

I am the twisted agony that hides in darkened shame;

I am the hidden beauty awaiting the perfect rain,

I could be so much yet you don’t know my name.

Watch the walls she builds so straight and high,

Watch her now those walls will reach the sky;

Watch the walls fail when hurt does learn to fly,

Watch her now ‘cause you’ll never see her cry.

I was the forgotten breath left alone adrift in the air,

I was the child who once never had but a care;

I was ruined, wounded beyond all Heaven’s repair,

I would lay wordless with you, my soul laid bare.

Hear the way her breath catches as though lost in a sigh,

Hear the words she speaks and know she’ll never lie;

Hear the way inner turmoil forces certainty and sanity to vie,

Hear the words to cover disgrace so inside she’ll never die.

I will always carry scars both phantom and corporeal,

I will always know the treasure from me that you did steal;

I will always wonder if in some small way I will heal,

I should perhaps ask another at what point I might feel.

Look in her eyes, how do you not see all her intense hurt?

Look in her soul, how can you not sense she’s been burnt?

Look in her heart, how don’t you know she’s anything but alert?

Look at the woman so like a child, now tell me, what have you learnt?

Too long my life was wasted on bitter tasting hollow pain,

Too long my life was twisted by agony to hide in darkened shame;

Too long I let pristine beauty be hidden awaiting fictitious perfect rain,

Too long I knew I could be everything and never told you my name.

Written under the pseudonym J. Nicole Whitten

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