X

I stare at the brand on my wrist

Two small lines cross

It is the mark of prisoner, a convict

Convicted for fearing the unknown,

For choosing the wrong path

Marked eternally as a former prisoner

The two lines burn across my heart

All wounds can heal, but not all can be erased

The scars on my heart remain

They remind me of what a weak fool I am

A long and bitter path now lies before me

The path I chose long ago

How I wish I go back

And kill the mistake before it was born

But dwelling in the past makes the future weak

I cannot change the past

I must serve my sentence no matter the shame

And must bear my scars