Time

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days.
Prescribed by the wretched fools who’ve never felt my pain.
Years, Decades, Centuries.
Can nothing can mend this gaping hole.

What could heal a wounded soul?
How can I not abandon hope?
I’m clutching at my heart and asking why,
“Time heals all wounds” is a Lie.

And so they will speak there lies,
Acting as if my pain is contrived.
They will say “Time heals all wounds.”
But what would they say if they could see my soul?

What could heal a wounded soul?
How can I not abandon hope?
I’m clutching at my heart and asking why,
“Time heals all wounds” is a Lie.

I’m desperate
To end this pain.
I’m bleeding out,
From this sorrow.
I beg you all
For something real.
I don’t believe
That time will heal.

So it’s come to this waiting game.
I suppose I will pray that time will save me.

Now it’s been an eternity.
Time has proven it’s a fallacy.
Everyone told me that in time, I’d heal.
The only thing It’s proven is that pain is real.

What could heal a wounded soul?
How can I not abandon hope?
I’m clutching at my heart and asking why,
“Time heals all wounds” is a Lie.

What could heal a wounded soul?
How can I not abandon hope?
I’m clutching at my heart and asking why,
“Time heals all wounds” is a Lie.

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