I don't want to be heard
I'll tuck away all the poems
I keep my thoughts in my head
Hide away a can of worms
I don't want to write anymore
Who can I pass on to this gift
The ache in my heart turns sore
Inside my soul is a growing rift
My mind seeks to explore the world
But my heart only wants to write about you
My pen was once a magic wand I held
But now a sword that splits my heart in two
Who will lift this weight off me
Who will make good use of this gift
I write of things that cannot be
My gift is of no use to me now you've left.
A