The Same Routine

I guess I'm hopeless in a sense;

With held back tears and tight clenched fists.

Unable to tear down my wall.

My "strength" unbroken, my tears don't fall.

My weak scarred heart that's barely beating.

My broken soul that keeps on breathing.

I keep praying that tonight I'll stop.

and it's the only hope I've got.

I wake each morning let down again

and hope each day that it's

The End.