Pain, the wound created out of events that life has burdened upon you.
Experience, the wound healed and turned to nothing, but a scar only to be vaguely remembered.
Will I stand with my head held high or will I fall back down deep into the abyss?
Will I sing again letting go of the past and look to the future or will I stew in the silence that claims to be my only friend that I need?
Will I endure by becoming my own rock to lean against in the long journey ahead or will I slip and find myself sinking and drowning as the waves go crashing above me?
Will I protect a heart made of glass that gleams in the sunlight from love or will I cascade it down to the floor hoping for those passing by to not trample upon its pieces?
Left with an imperfect smile, a broken hearted man can only find the direction he is meant to go even if it means falling on his face, for that is still moving forward.