She was running, pens spilled from her purse
Her arms were full with paper and pictures
Her heart was breaking, legs were aching
She was starting to curse. . .
She always told herself that the music would make it okay
She used it to elude reality for awhile
Her heart was breaking, body was aching
Never wanted to believe that the music would end someday. . .
Questions were running, they spilled from her mind
Overwhelmed by thoughts, she ran
Her heart was breaking, head was aching
Her search was for answers she may never find. . .
Exhausted, she has fallen to the floor
Frustrated, she thinks about life
Her heart was breaking, heart was aching
All that running, she knows her feet won’t reach the door. . .
Poetry
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