Find Me Before It's too Late

I am lost and you need to find me,
Out here in this cold world they pick me apart,
Slowly I die and slowly I suffer,
My heart feels cold and pain pulses throughout,
The fear is the thing that tears me apart,
The pain rises to the point that I can’t stand,
I fall deeper and deeper into this dark world,
Constantly in search of that helping hand to lead me through,
This constant feeling of a hollow heart grows old,
My chest bumps with the faint beats of my heart,
Growing more and more faint by the second,
I crumble to my knees and begin to cry,
This pain grows old and I grow weak,
My last tear falls in hope she will arrive.

Poem by Strengthen_by_Pain

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