all alone on the streets,
your heart is withering
like the snow slowly disappearing
as spring breaks through January
you wished to be November
to be forgotten, ignored
the pressure was too much
some say it creates diamond
but you became rock
unable to keep up with the times
you were hidden from the eyes
of future lovers, of best friends
it was enough to send you in a spiral
when you wanted to be a straight line
you were the experiment of society's toys
a fragment, a weakling
you faded into the background
like a pair of jeans washed too many times
and you left hardly a mark
not even a footprint, the ground was too hard
not that you cared, for you didn't believe
all the magic had already left you
there was nothing to trust, nothing to love
you were simply not there
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YOU ARE READING
What's Wrong
Poetrysome of these might not make sense but trust me neither does my mind