Like burnt wood my heart remembers a life of beauty, of radiance and fresh life that was pure
Untouched by your hand, untouched by man, living a life obscure
I was taken for granted back then, when I was untouched by men
I am taken for granted now and left to burn like a rotten sow
I’m not sure quite what happened, I know it was a sin
For my memories are hazed but you are there within
I am a shadow of my former self
I cannot be her again
I need to find a way to be, out of this pigpen
I have no idea what was going on in my head when I wrote this, don’t ask me what this poem is about because it’s obscure even to its writer ha-ha make what you will of it.
