THE HURTFUL PRIDE

The Hurtful Pride

Like needle prick

Or a scathing skin

The once bloomed smile

And it’s colourful beam

All washed away

By the passing wind

The Hurtful Pride

That shall not be seen

For it may be deemed

An unkind deed

Even though valid

Pure and true

The Hurtful Pride

Can only be rooted

And be healed

Cos no one can blanket

The ugly truth

The Hurtful Pride

Has learnt a thing or two

To be wise

And a little tougher

So it won’t move 

For one’s value 

should not be valued by you

A lesson remembered

And will be always be

That life can be an upheaval 

Of turbulence and uncertainty

And also moments

That are beautiful and true 

- Samantha