Weathered Heart

The clay of my youthful confidence

My birthright, my sense of worth

Was fret away early on

By rivulets of tears and snot

Sourced from enthusiasms bullied and bossed

Until over time there formed

A hard-won, hard-worn chip on my shoulder

That altered my stance forever

It’s hard to be open

Holding back so much

No one can reach me

No one can hurt me

No one can touch me

But who won what, I wonder

Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: fret

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s