The past

Crimson stains are seeping through
all the love i hold for you
staining my wrists a shade of red
that clearly states i will soon be dead
holding close to all i know
hoping that my scars don't show
lying all the night and day
telling them all that I'm OK
never leave the dark of night
running from pasts pain and fright
the shadow that forms behind
all else that occupies my mind
what they did and all they told
will haunt my heart till i grow old
and if by chance i become tame
i still can not or will not loose pasts pain