A beaten heart,
Bruised and scarred,
Beating in the chest,
Of a girl,
That in this world,
wants nothing more than to belong.
She hopes and prays,
Maybe one day,
Someone will fix her mistakes,

Give her a chance to fix the things she did,

The words she said.
She blames herself,
And acts as if she blames everyone else,
For the pain she endures.
Love is a plant, growing out of tiny drops of hope…
But she’s all out of seeds.
Though she has plenty of tears to water the sprouts.

She saves them in a jar,

Those tears of pain…

Watching them slide down the glass as her heart breaks…

Why did it have to end that way?

Leaving her with her tears of pain?