Wounded Poem by Phil Mason

Wounded



I've never been seriously shot,
Oh sure, a minor flesh wound in my right calf from being on the edge of a 12 gage shotgun spread,
But that barely warrants a mention.
But I've seen others that have been seriously shot, some were mended, some ended up in the ground.

A bullet enters, splinters bone, severs arteries, pulverizes organs.
It's never pretty....and it hurts like all hell once the shock is gone...or so I imagine.
If you die you'll never know that pain.
That might be a good thing, it might not be... I hope never to have to put that to the test.

Twice I've had a broken heart, that hurts like hell too, I suppose it can also kill
But I don't know that answer either, and I hope I never will.
Because it is enough for me to just to survive the lost of warmth,
a decimated spirit, and a shattered soul.

Sunday, November 20, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: dark,love,pain
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