Does it really matter?

Of course, it does!

Do you find yourself here from time to time,
In the spot of what if, what now, why did they say it,
Can they change it, will it ever be the same?
And, did something or someone die?
Does it matter?

A part of me I’m sure wont’ let anyone see it,
I run and hide and find my pen.
I write the words, I let them out.
I’ll tuck them away.

And each time I find myself here
Sure as the rooster crows three times,
And I have been denied, neglected, and tarnished.
I think I should publish these words.
Then I think no, they aren’t any good.
Let them die with this pain I try so much to ignore.
I’ll read another book, find another thing to put my life in.

And just maybe I’ll tell myself:
It doesn’t matter- smile- pick up your tears and go.
It doesn’t matter to any of them.