Hidden Scars

Hidden Scars

 If rivers were the tears we cried, what would the oceans be
If hills the stones upon our heart, what mountains would we see
If trees like worries touch the sky, what could the forests do
If feathered clouds can turn so gray, what would thunder mean to you
As raindrops falling in the night, obscuring shining stars
A battered guise, so elegant, veiling hidden scars
As puddles form beneath the feet, of lost and plodding souls
What purpose can there really be with one so full of holes
The steep and arduous price to pay to keep up the facade
Reeks of senseless trial, of fortune that is flawed
Yet maintain that shallow false veneer, is something that we must
For if it fails we crumble so, and with us all we trust

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