for the betterment of us

I can never be the poem if you're the poet

I walked
Only to step on a broken line
Where I stood and shivered
Until I lose my mind
And as I wanted to be saved
I would not
If I fall into a trap
I must not climb back

It took me centuries to figure out that I can't function properly
As the truth prevails
It embodied my fears perfectly
My heart refuses to make any movement
My eyes, though, wilted in the breeze

In such a mystery portrayed by you
Can never reveal any of the truths
That if you were to write
Something to remember, something to forget
A handful of words towards a subject
As many as the grains of sand are the losses
I can never be the poem if you're the poet