Friday, March 7, 2014

Stepping out

So it is the last day,
The job is done,
No more sobbing,
No more crying,
My time is done.

Not very long ago,
You were here,
Broken, shattered,
And I was picking pieces,
My job it was.

Not once, not twice,
Again and again,
You broke down,
Hit the ground,
Waiting for me to come around.

You are fixed now,
No more holes,
Pieces I took out of me,
Whole once again you are,
But where do I go from here.

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