The Painted Shell

Penned a soliloquy I had today with myself...

In the noise of all I tried to be,

I lost the simple shade of me.

I traded silence for the crowd,

And spoke in voices far too loudly.

Where have I gone beneath the weight,

Of yesterday and future state?

I look into the polished glass,

And watch a passing shadow pass.

I wore the expectations well,

A painted shell where dreams could dwell.

I smiled to keep the peace outside,

While something quiet slowly died.

Where is the child who knew no doubt?

Who knew what joy was all about?

Who didn't measure worth in praise,

Or count the hours of quiet days?

Yet somewhere deep beneath the dust,

Beyond the fear, beyond the rust,

A tiny spark begins to gleam—

A waking eye inside a dream.

I have not vanished, only slept,

Behind the secrets that I kept.

I am still here, beneath the disguise,

Waiting to open my own eyes.

The Words That Wound

A child sits silent, his heart clenched tight,  

In the echoes of words that steal the light.  

From lips that should cradle, comfort, and care,  

Comes a torrent of pain too heavy to bear.  

"You're worthless, foolish, a burden to all!"  

Her voice like a hammer, her words like a wall.  

No lullabies, no tales of delight,  

Only sharp-edged scorn in the dead of night.  

Her tongue, a blade that cuts to the bone,  

In a house full of people, he feels so alone.  

Each syllable bruises, each sentence stings,  

Shackling his spirit with invisible strings.  

He looks to her face, searching for grace,  

But finds only shadows in its place.  

Her laughter is bitter, her kindness withdrawn,  

And the child wonders what he did wrong.  

His tears are quiet, his cries unheard,  

Drowned by the weight of her biting words.  

The world outside is a distant dream,  

While her anger swells like a raging stream.  

But deep within, a flicker remains,  

A hope that someday he'll break these chains.  

For even in darkness, the smallest flame  

Can whisper of freedom and call his name.  

One day, he'll rise, and her voice will fade,  

Replaced by love that his heart has made.  

Though scars may linger, his soul will soar,  

A child no longer, but something more.