The Sixth Sense

You cannot imagine all
The things that I have seen.
I hope you never travel to
The places I have been.
You would not understand
The things that I have heard.
Not a sentence, not a phrase,
Not even a word.
You won't ever taste
The defeat that I have known.
It's shit, it's piss, it's blood, it's skin,
It's flesh, sinew and bone.
You won't ever feel the things
That I've held in my hands.
That life, slipping away from you,
For you don't meet its demands.
You will never smell the stench
Of dead hearts bathed in perfume.
The broken dreams, the battered soul
That form your final tomb.

You do not know.
You cannot know.
And you never will.