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Writer's pictureLandon

Broken Parts - Poem

The truth is, I'm shaken and scared.


All these unread messages to me, but why haven't I cared?

I'm there for everyone, but neglect my self in the process.

My mind is top secret and I need access.

I need a way to be okay and still conquer the day.

I look around and my heart hurts.

Because I'm starting to see how many other people have "broken parts."

The truth is everyone says they understand and love our outreaches, yet expect us to perform at all times.

But who can blame them? How can we explain this?

In our head are constant up and downhill climbs.

They'd never know that just today, you've fallen a hundred times.

By they, I mean the fictional people we see daily. We just seem to forget that other people are struggling daily.

I'm not writing this because I'm going to do something dark.

I'm just on edge, looking at a mark.

Of where I want to be and where I am now.

We all know it gets better, but in a bout does it ever?

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