As each agonizing second ticks by,
The pain increases tenfold,
Squeezing my heart like a vice,
Clamping on,
And never letting go.

No matter how much I try,
Pulling with force as I attempt to pry
Away my emotions from the fierce grip
Of Fate, who holds his tea and takes a sip,
Oblivious to the harm he may cause,
No matter what it was
He will always win,
Even if he must sin,
By crushing my broken heart
And tearing it apart.

I will not lie
That I did cry,
For that day back in July
I watched a tiny butterfly
Lose its will to live by never being as high
As the land that it seeks: the sky,
So Fate looks sly,
And I wonder why,
But now I die
Because I spy
With my little eye
The hope that did dry
And vanish within the poor guy
In one last tired sigh
As he said goodbye.

***

Rhyming is fun. Life isn't.

8/28/2017