The World Cuts Deep

Some days the world cuts deeper than it knows,

Leaving quiet wounds no one ever shows.

And when their hatred gathers like a storm,

It spills through the cracks where a heart stays warm.

I’ve felt that flood rising under my skin,

A tide of sorrow I never asked to let in.

Not real blood — just the weight of what they’ve said,

The kind that stains your thoughts a deeper red.

I walk through the night with that burden in tow,

Trying not to drown in the undertow.

Humanity’s anger can strike so fast,

Its shadows stretching long and vast.

But even when the hurt comes pouring through,

I brace myself and see it through.

These wounds may ache, but they’re not my end —

Just marks of battles I didn’t choose to defend.