Eraser

Just like a kid angry at there drawing,
scraping away at the memory of dispare.

Remembering what was there,
though the lines have disappeared.

Crying because it's not going away,
waiting to start over the next day.

They stare at their half erased picture,
praying it will go away.

Like a broken heart though,
its here to stay.

You keep erasing, and starting again,
but you know you cant pretend.

Underneath all those lines,
you remember how many times.

Though the page is blank,
in your darkest hour you see your picture,
the one you can't erase.