Thrown punches,

Who is to blame?

Most of us will ever allow ourselves to bare any shame...

So scars are made

And hearts are broken.

In some way or another,

We all hide our pain like a sober token,

We are proud underneath our guarded mask.

Personas are made

And when they are uncovered

What is hidden underneath

Cuts like a blade.

But time heals all wounds,

And I know yours will close up soon.

Sometimes a few more are made, cutting over the raw skin

But I know one day you will be okay again,

We will all be okay again.

The sun still has billions of years to burn out,

And so do we.