Does not reflect the wounds that lay beneath.
A mortal bloe was dealt by remains unseen
by those who pass her on the street.
it reveals not one indication of the pain she hides.
No one could ever guess her secret anguish,
it gnaws and tears at her insides..
A Master shakes His head in wonder at her plight.
And never knows the part He played,
In the pain His little one feels tonight.
Not in anger but in haste, without a thought.
Its affect went unnoticed by the speaker,
who had no idea of the damage it had wrought.
Not intended to bring about such pain.
The face that failed to see the look it yeilded,
now looks stunned at what remains.
A thoughtful act went unnoticed or was ignored.
And disappointment replaed the joy,
that a tender heart needed as a reward.
the kind of pain that leaves no marks.
There are no bruises or broken limbs,
only scars on broken hearts.
An awsome power in a Man,
to inflict marks and leave scars,
without ever raising a hand.