Grasp.

I Grasp My Heart.
Which she has torn apart.
I feel alone.
I need to feel love.
No Sadness.
No Depression,
I Need someone to love me for me.
Someone who could set me free.
Everytime I Write a Rhyme. I actually try to explain
Myself. When I do. People look at me like I committed a crime. Giving up is probably the best choice. I decide to give up this poise. I grasp the heart.
That is a linger. When people talk crap.
I give them the finger.