Its not
Your job
to save me
But
It hurts
that you
don't try
YOU ARE READING
painted poet
PoesíaWhat memories give me grief or gratitude, Tempts my firey attitude, comes to my mind In the wee hours of night Or of the mornings first blinking light, The second edition to my collection of fragments, pulled together like bits of stained glass, ...
(shard)
Its not
Your job
to save me
But
It hurts
that you
don't try
