How difficult it is,
to see your life force drained
to feel as if something has been stolen
ripped from you
When you probably created the gash from whence you bleed out
Like a child that discarded a toy
only to want it back when someone else picks it up
You should probably walk away
Save some face
Yet you keep fighting
You keep holding on
Feelings of resentment bubble up inside
But who can you really blame?
Or just you?