She carefully steals
The pieces of me
That matter the most,
Soon I won't know
What's become of my soul,
Given what I could
Nothing left for myself,
I'm not getting change back
She takes it to the cleaners
And I'm looking back
Where I tripped
How hard I fell
Without a thought
Not a care,
But that is neither
Here nor there
Cannot cry
Over all that's spilt,
Just need to see if I can
Pick up all the chips again...

APAD15 - 004 © okpoet