You're fine, you're fine, you're fine.
And if you're not, it's no fault of mine.
If you're suffering, and if you hurt,
Suffer silently, not that I mean to be curt.
You're okay, you're okay, you're okay.
As you have been every day.
So don't say how you're getting killed.
For deadly wounds can sometimes heal.
You're dying, you're dying, you're dying.
And I'll sit aside your deathbed crying.
What happened? How did you wither so?
And how come I didn't ever know?
YOU ARE READING
Scattered Ponderings
PoetryA single note, it reads *Remember to write something profound here* (cover credit is to @adnali - if anyone's reading this, check out her stuff, it's so good) (spn & fandom is marked in title)
