To be honest or to be vague?
For the record;
I have always felt this way.
Life’s blows did mould me into a statue –
A grey imitation of the veins within,
Yet standing and posing clotted my blood,
And cracks started to begin.
Time does not hand-out sticky plasters,
It only offers an opportunity;
To remould the plinth you stand in
And write yourself a new beginning.