She smiles and pretends that everything is OK. She bows her head with nothing to say. She wonders why everything is this way. She holds on to too much pain. She can’t seem to wipe away, from her heart, the stain. The blackness from her soul and a fire burning, taking its toll. She guards her heart. She doesn’t realize she is a work of art. Her world has become dark and cold. She is no longer courageous and bold. She bows down and does what she is told. They say reach out, but her lips refuse to separate. It’s impossible when all she does is feel hate. They say she is selfish and to think about those that she will hurt. But with death she begins to flirt. She believes it to be her time to depart. She believes It’s the only way to mend her broken heart.