Oh, well,
I guess that's what I get
for trusting too easily.
Painful memories
and secrets that are
no longer hidden.

Oh, well,
I guess that's what I get
for loving too fast.
A shattered heart
and promises that are
no longer kept, instead,
very broken.

Oh, well,
I guess that's what I get
for being too nice.
I'm taken
for-granted
and ruthlessly
used.

Oh, well,
I guess that's what I get
for being myself.
My lifeless body
on the cold, rigid ground,
obsolete.