Inside my room,  there’s an old  empty chair
painted with scars of  painful memory.
Covered in dust of bitterness and despair.
and shadow of tears behind  its misery.
A lonely place,  I don’t want to see and stay.


Memories which scar our lives are commonplace, memories that burn to haunt and rob….



5 thoughts on “Scar

  1. This made me tear up as I remembered all that God saved me from. My room was a place of horror for me, but thankfully I am now out of that place. I guess it was a good thing to go back to that room and see that I no longer live there. Thanks for sharing ❤


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