My Place
My heart wishes to stop beating.
The strength I have to go on is fleeting,
as I have no way of competing.
She has a granite shell but a heart made of cotton.
To make her worry for someone she used to care for would be rotten.
So she doesn't see my despair, when she is near I take
the knife and carve a smile on my face.
I sit their in the ground as she walks by,
and I know I have found my place.
Copyright © Zachary Truhan | Year Posted 2015
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