Thieves Don't Always Get Sent To Jail.

It is hard to write poetry with a pen

So I etch the words within my skin

when I shut my eyes I count to ten

And lyrical words appear within

My mind is shattered, my soul is broken

My ears are shut, my eyes won’t open

My lips forget the words I want spoken

And I am slowly painfully coping.

The world in front of me went away

The lightbulb of my life had burst

My lips had nothing left to say

But my eyes they did their worst.

And on that day, the Friday you left

I couldn’t help but cry cry cry

The police never caught you for the theft

So slowly it will die.

Without you is bad enough

But without my heart is too far

I’ve lost all my kindness, all my love

But I’m left with plenty of scars.