These cracks in the ground
I've stared at far too long.
Startling at the slightest sound
my heart breaks at every song.

Ready, steady.

(Tears will flow.)

There's a voice in my head
whispering to be free:
time to pick myself up
and get off my knees.

Ready, steady.

(Sunk so low.)

Crying by night,
carefree by day.
I say surely happiness
must be on the way.

Ready, steady.

(Can I be my own hero?)

Scars can't heal
if they bleed.
When will I realize
what I really need?

Ready, steady.

(Only one way to know.)


A/N: I've had a pretty rough year so far. Writing helped. This was one of my many attempts at a pick-me-up poem that I wrote when I got sick of feeling sorry for myself.