3d • Share your Poems
The Wounded Mind
The wounded mind walks silent streets,
A war within it never beats.
Scars unseen but cut so deep,
Memories haunt, refuse to sleep.
It builds a wall, it locks the door,
Afraid to feel, to hurt once more.
A whispered doubt, a ghostly call,
Echoes rise, then start to fall.
Yet cracks let in the faintest light,
A flicker small, but still a fight.
A voice, a touch, a gentle stare,
Reminds the mind that hope is there.
Not all wounds will bleed or show,
Not all pain is loud to know.
But in the dark where shadows creep,
Even broken minds
can heal, and leap.
By Jason Strickland
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The Wounded Mind
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Art of Poetry craft truth into rhythm. Find your voice, master imagery and form, write bravely, revise sharply, and turn life into lines that last.
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