www.whyville.net Aug 12, 2012 Weekly Issue



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Whyville Poet

In Times of Need

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FRONT PAGE
CREATIVE WRITING
SCIENCE
HOT TOPICS
POLITICS
HEALTH
PANDEMIC
I'm losing breath . . . It's
cutting me down to the core. I'm
healing my heart because it's still so sore
from what you did to it . . .
That frozen night, we professed love . . . But I
was never good enough, was never what your dreams
were made of.
You held my heart so tight, I felt
so secure in your arms. Never did I think
that it'd put me in harms
way. My breathing is irregular as
I lay on this floor. I gasp
for the air, my heart, you tore
it all apart. You grabbed your knife and ripped
it right through me . . . You had no shame, you
were equipped with nothing but a smile . . .
You were pleased, to see me writhing
in pain, you never cared. You just played your
cards right to get to me, and it scared
me because it worked. The
breaths come shorter
now, I can't feel much anymore,
Forever will this be a lore,
A learning experience.
Now I know, I can't
trust you,
I've turned to dust,
Dying because of you,
Gasping because of you,
Everything now shorter,
Heart constricting,
Body conflicting,
Air restricted . . .
You've done it,
You've
killed
me . . .

 

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