This is a poem about a feeling so shallow
It started too early
Stifled and quenched too fast
Still stings so deeply
With the world as the witness
Own self as the proof
Let the brain be the judge
The heart is the victim
The soul, broken.

This is a story of a tiny flower
Surrounded by the world
And yet by many worlds apart
It bloomed unknowingly
A beauty none the same
Not as extraordinary as it seemed
And yet a specter still
Trampled by many a foot
Down the murk its final tomb.

This is a history, a tale
Of a person too young
Drowning, in pain
Faced to the world and from the world rejected
Who gave away trust
Gained nothing more than a thousand wounds
For the hundredth time
And five more
Heart broken, fixed and revived
And one more time
For which everything has finally ended.

This is a lesson to all out there
A warning to all whose heart so soft
A guide, a note, a letter
A final goodbye.