I see the arrow coming,
I know it’s no use running.
I duck my head, hide my eyes,
Wish what they tell me are lies.
I want to hide, somewhere dark.
It’s too late, my heart is the mark.
I stay quiet, hoping they’ll hear
The cries in my silent tears.
The wind is a soft cool hand on my shoulder,
Telling me it’s alright, but I feel no bolder.
The sun shines bright,
I don’t see its light.
This is about being wounded and wishing it wasn’t true.
It’s about heartache, and not being able to elude it.
It’s about the hope that what has happened is just a lie.
It’s about meaning to say something,
but not being able to.
It’s two of the stages of grief, Denial and Sorrow.
It’s the time where your loved ones comfort you, but all you want is to cry