2002-04-16, 8:13 p.m.
A beautiful poem my dear friend Erin wrote. It was even published.
Heart on Shelf
i hold my hand, a shard of glass
and hope that pain has come to pass
but if it won�t, then night be still,
because the shard has come to kill
to push the pain so far away
�twill never see the light of day
the blood will rise and scar will form
concealing all of which i mourn
with clothes i hide and not reveal
the broken soul in which i feel
the cause thereof is hidden in
this empty head and space within
the reason which i�ll never tell
because of then, all would be hell
all this torture and torment
is all for me, no sentiment
from those around, for they all frown
they need not know why i am down
they have troubles of their own
and all my tactics, none condone
so i stay here, all by myself
to writhe in pain, heart on shelf