In the
caverns of the heart, where shadows dance,
Lies the
echo of a past, a wounded trance.
Inner
childhood wounds, silent and deep,
Whispers of
pain that time failed to sweep.
Tiny
footsteps in a world unkind,
Innocence
shattered, left far behind.
A playground
of memories stained with tears,
Where the
passage of time magnifies fears.
The
playground echoes with laughter and cries,
Yet, within,
a wounded child silently sighs.
Scars
unseen, etched on the soul,
Tales of a
past that took its toll.
A tender
spirit, once pure and free,
Now bears
the weight of what used to be.
Broken
dreams and shattered trust,
In the
gallery of memories, they combust.
But within
the darkness, a flicker remains,
A resilient
spirit that still sustains.
For healing
begins when we turn within,
Face the
wounds, let the mending begin.
Embrace the
child who longs to be heard,
Speak to the
pain with a gentle word.
In the
garden of self, sow seeds of grace,
Let love and
acceptance find their place.
With each
sunrise, a chance to renew,
To heal the
wounds, to start anew.
For the
inner child seeks a gentle hand,
To guide
them home, to understand.
So, let
compassion be the balm we wield,
To heal the
wounds that time concealed.
In the
tapestry of life, where shadows loom,
Find solace
and strength in the inner child's room.
Pic courtesy: Fireflies Unplugged