As I walk among the wreckage of what once was
I feel the guilt pulse through my veins.

This was not what I intended.
This is not what I imagined.
What began with good intentions
Ends with the stain of tears shed.

The thoughts and tears collect
Like pennies in a jar
These pennies, though, are far from lucky.

They mix together and form something altogether worse and more painful.
A penny by itself won't hurt when it is thrown at you.

Throw the full jar.
You'll see how easily I bleed.