What good am I?

No good to anyone.

Not after what happened.

How can anyone pick up these pieces?

Scattered on the ground.

Lost, not to be found.

They cut me up and grind me out.

Lost and alone, my head is so filled with doubt.

Will I ever be the same?

Is it just to late?

Can we fix what's been broken?

Taken from a innocent?

Who never wanted this to begin with?

Who will want me now?

Who will pick up the pieces?

Glue them back together?

Catch my tears?

Hold my cold hands forever?

Who would kiss these defiled lips?

A soul so roughly broken?

Answer me these questions.
Who will want me now?