The Token
Once again, my heart has been broken seems as though it was used as a token. A token for tragedy, a token for pain a token for love, with no hope of gain. A token for anger, and also for fear of not having you with me, close and near. A token not meant to ever be loved but one to be used, pushed, and shoved. A token meant to wither and die, to be by itself, living a lie. A token meant to finish it's days living alone and wasting away. Wondering about what could have been if you hadn't wasted the token again. If you had done all that you could maybe the token would still be good. As it slips, and falls from your grip remember that it was my heart, not a tip. Written July 16th, 2001 © on Nov 10 2001 09:43 PM PST, Deborah Wolz 18 • 0 • 1
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"Once again, my heart has been broken ..."