I can't help feeling like a loner, someone who walks off and never looks back. I hate being ones donor, who always ends in a crack. It hits me with a dagger in the heart, I nearly die but I'm not able to drop. I let the pain tear me apart, knowing I won't be rescued and the pain wouldn't stop. Finally I felt relief in my veins, heading to a place I could call mine. I felt free without my chains, I finally crossed the line. It was much better to breathe, in this beautiful land I could call home. I wasn't the only one to leave, and the many fields together we would roam. As one we both died, and we would wake to the sunrise. Understanding where we needed to glide, we bid each other our goodbyes.