You either don’t know or can’t comprehend
The power of a pen or the pain therein.
Neither glory nor shame waits in ink,
Just words that’ll make you stop and think,
And within all that sits my shattered hope,
Held together now by thick and ugly rope,
I wont make excuses I broke myself,
But now all I ask is for a little bit of help.
Pick me up, carry and comfort me,
Take me to a place where its safe to bleed,
I’m afraid of what I think I am,
My life, my heart, my soul a sham.
My spirit was broken a long time ago,
Something I don’t really want to show,
My bones sucked dry by hope gone stale,
We sit here now alone and frail.
Yes I lie here broken and sore,
Putrid and rotten to the very core,
Nausea has me in her iron cast hold,
Lost in just another existential fold.
I ask once again with tears in my eyes,
Please someone save me, or at least try.

Mathew Lewis

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/breaking-the-boy/