Question

Any suggestions on how to improve this poem?

You are hurt, bleeding from a hundred wounds
yet you insist you are fine.
At least, until you collapse on the floor.
Crying out for bandages, a patch job
Not realizing there is only one cure for them.
and you're too proud. not strong enough yet.

Wounds inflicted by your soul only heal by love.

Eventually you rest, stand, keep going.
insist there's not a hundred soul wounds.
But i can see the trail of blood behind you.
the one you like to pretend doesn't exist.

Answer 1

just giv a gud title & the poem'd be perfect then.