Poezja

And I'll watch you deteriorate before my eyes
and don't be surprised when I forget to cry
As fear lies in your mind, rest a sure things will NEVER be fine.
In life, broken glass cuts at skin very thin
Left un-aided will bleed, never allowing what it needs
I'll watch you bleed and make no sound, nor clean the mess on the ground.
Soft sound as quiet as a pin drop, words trickle out in a haunted whisper...
'Sometimes lost is never found...'