It’s dark down here, trapped in the concept of my making.
My empathy a curse.
My sensitive soul a gift for the taking.
Gullible you say? Rather be than cynical.
You are dark.
My eyes see light! but you only see dark.
It’s not your fault you were made this way
No warmth of light formed your path.
Harsh words, harsher straps of punishment. For what?!..you?..a child? They didn’t see the light in you. They spewed their criticism penetrating into your ‘self’ so ‘you’ became.
They moulded with cruelty they killed and ‘you’ became
It wasn’t your fault.
But you spread your darkness, mind numbing, convincing.
You stole my light.
Did it make you bright? Did you heal?
Did you finally feel?!
It’s dark down here, trapped in the concept of my making.
My empathy a curse
My sensitive soul a gift for the taking.
Living on the Edge 