I write so that my heart can survive I know that only poetry can revive. There are things I can't tell anyone They think I'm silly or just having fun. Writing keeps my sanity, helps me stay right Helping me not to give up without a fight. Like, a sorry is more than an emotion When hello becomes a goodbye, a teary solution. Maybe my heart is made up of glass Too fragile to face life's tough class. Grief is a bruise that pain cannot control I'll try to wear a band-aide on my soul. This poem looks for the right lines, words To convey all of the emotions stirred. I still feel short on what I have to say I think, I still found a way to, anyway. Maybe, this is not a poem at all Just my keyboard going for a spin , to sprawl.