I know it,
It burns like hot coals in my throat.
Directions that seem clear,
Only to disappear when it's time to go.
It's never goodbye,
But it feels like so.
What broken record am I that it stays and stings?
A heart is a useful gift,
But sometimes it's use.
Is restricted by what it brings.
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
I know it,
It burns like hot coals in my throat.
Directions that seem clear,
Only to disappear when it's time to go.
It's never goodbye,
But it feels like so.
What broken record am I that it stays and stings?
A heart is a useful gift,
But sometimes it's use.
Is restricted by what it brings.
