You will be fine

The time will come
when the broken will be put together.
I promise you a path,
a fix
for your split head.
You will not be forgotten.
The day come
the bulb breaks,
raining glass tears upon unharmed skin,
when the last moth dies,
the act stops;
beating their heads against lights
is no longer a valuable goal
or a desired one.
I hope it made you feel better.
It is just what
some
want to hear
from time to time.
Probably, what
Jesus would have said
that hangin’ heck
with his balm for the soul and his cross trained neck
looking down on you
with pity and shame.
Blood dripping
from his hand on your head.
Encouraging words shouldn’t get shout by a holy man
I believe them more
mumbled by a bum at a train station entrance.