I have fallen.
You pushed me.
I know you just do not care.
You put all the blame all on me.
I do not understand why.
Out of spite?
Out of malice?
Do you even realize?
I think you do.
As you kick me as I lie down here
in a pool of my own blood.
I cry out.
My pleas go unheard or ignored.
I swear I see you smiling.
Through my tears.
I extend my hand in an offer of peace.
You grasp it.
But I can see your other hand behind
your back with fingers crossed.
There is a smile on your face.
As you bask in your seemingly triumph.
I am left here bleeding internally.
The damage you caused is unseen by
I doubt you would care anyway.
I pick myself up and limp away.
Holding my broken heart in my hand.
There is great pain.
My soul is torn.
Then I stumble and fall.
I cannot go on.
Too many wounds, too much that
SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY