FILTH

No soap can wash away this dirt,
Nothing will take away the hurt,
The hurt that you caused,
Or all of the sores,
Spinning in my mind.
And so, a new sorrow I find,
Of anger and regret,
Cursing the day we met.

No scourer can scrub away this stain,
No pill will heal the poison in my brain,
Poisonous pictures,
Fused into fixtures,
Of my head,
Memories I dread,
Stuck with images for life,
And so, with sorrow I'm rife.

I pray that time will rid me of this grime,
So through the slime, I climb,
Because my life must go on,
And so, waiting for the hurt to be gone,
Hoping the pain will ease and fade,
I'll take it slowly as through life I wade.