A Lacerated Heart

December 6, 2008
By Somi Singh, Omaha, NE

I cry, I cry
but the sorrow filled tears,
the sorrow filled ones, they do not appear.
No, just like everything else they've given up too.
Oh, but how she longs to realse the pain, for inside so much does she contain.
And as the second hand of the clock slowly ticks away,
she can feel the pounding in her chest.
How the reastless feet long to run, to get away fomr the eyes of those who judge,
from the eyes of those who expect so much.
And now her heart is racing fast.
And now her hands slowly start to shake,
"It's only a dream; no I'm awake!"
"I can't take it, I'm through, finished, and done. For I have failed, but I have not begun."
Then I think once more, "ahh yes, I have begun. Begun the end, that shall be, the end of me?"
And when my end comes I will be free.
No more judging eyes, no more dissapointed looks.
No more tears will be shed. So I gently lay down, and rest my head.

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