Poetry

The days go by, how many are left?
 Not very many, her
life is a mess.
 The one that took it
all away.
 Is the one that I
wanted to stay.
 I long for her touch,
and the heart that was torn.
 She keeps taking and
taking, until there's no more.
 But now for her, she
has found a new friend.
 They call it the
needle, which will be with her to the end.
 I try to help, and
she pushes me away.
 She is in denial,
every single day.
 So I just step back,
I've done what I can.
 Now it is up to her,
to want that chance again.