Literature
Remain
There once was a time
I wrote, wrote with grief
To myself and me alone
Only, only for relief.
I was scared and insecure
From things, things rather left unshared.
A question often seeped into the night,
"Has anyone, anyone cared?"
Now the time has passed,
I have set, set myself free.
But I always remember my past scars,
That remain, remain in me.