Bandages

The bodies made of traumas

found wrapped up in bandages.

Appeared like a mighty warrior,

Triumph over illicit advantages.

Respected and loved,

Applauded and heard.

For the courage shown,

In the fight, they won.

It looks Ironic and strange,

But the plight hasn’t changed.

 Ever wondered why?

Many in hundreds…

The minds made of traumas,

Often end up becoming 

The executioner of a million

deep cuts on those bodies.

No bandages shaped for mental traumas,

Always leading the conscience into a deep coma 

Wish there was some of the piece of fabric available,

Someone could stitch the bandage that’s capable. 

Hidden scars are villains that never act tender,

Still, the minds would have surrendered.

 If a bandage could heal the damage under disguise.

Bodies would also be blooming unblemished like paradise.

Nevertheless, I’ll keep my hopes and head held high in the dark

Fingers crossed; eyes closed, recite a prayer to ignite the spark.

When the bandage will come to my rescue and set my mind free.

I’ll take my blindfold off and walk to the garden to plant a million trees.