I came to see the wounded

I came to see the wounded

where I’m from their not around

I came to see the wounded

and you’ll never guess what I found

broken wings and bandages

and blood shed on the ground

I was afraid to speak out loud

a single voice, a shattering sound

I came to see the wounded

and I saw their souls rise

I came to see the wounded

and saw failure after many tries

broken bodies and broken souls

the truth after so many lies

the closer I looked at the bodies

I didn’t want to believe my eyes

I came to see the wounded

and I can no longer pretend

I came to see the wounded

instead I saw the end

I saw the pain, I saw the blood

the things I once called friend

but I also saw the bodies

somehow no one could mend

I came to see the wounded

and their self-inflicted pain

I came to see the wounded

to convince myself I was sane

I saw the scars that shouldn’t be

and the ever present stain

I wanted so badly to reach out

but I forced myself to refrain

I came to see the wounded

and was surprised at what I saw

I came to see the wounded

and I stood staring in awe

for what I found before me

when stripped down to the raw

was a vision of myself

and every self-inflicted flaw

I came to see the wounded

I didn’t have far to go

I came to see the wounded

I neglected the one I know

pointing everywhere else

the most dangerous foe

always escaping the mirror

please tell me it isn’t so

Written for DVerse open link night, hosted by Grace

OpenLinkNight #331 | dVerse (dversepoets.com)

Author: Carol anne

I am 40 years young. I'm blind and I have dissociative identity disorder, I also have complex PTSD. I blog about my life with these disorders. I live in Ireland.

27 thoughts on “I came to see the wounded”

  10. Pingback: I came to see the wounded — Therapy Bits – GettingrealwithPTSD

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