I sit here picking up pieces,
Skewed, Shattered shards of glass,
turning red, no longer green,
as life's blood drips to the grass.
To it, does each cut reveal,
All That is broken, as I bleed?
Understand how I now feel,
give it insight while it feeds?
As well, Can it be felt,
The rejection, from being unwanted?
Or see my life's a living HELL,
Thru eyes glazed, gaunt and haunted?
I pray, with it, goes the pain,
I watch the blood slowly drain,
OH PLEASE, let it all go away,
Grass and ground, can wear the stain.
....a tale of betrayal,
left in my wake...
©nec
N