Short Story

If only the words that lie inside,
Openly would show,
Than you would see the pain subside,
And how I love you so.
But here I stay where I am well,
Away from all the pain,
Here in my heart-broken hell,
Where living is but vain.
And my only hold on life,
Beats within my chest,
Pierced, as if it were a knife,
Heartbroke and at unrest.
Doctor, won't you check my pulse,
To see if I'm alive?
Is this life or is this false,
And how could I survive?
For life without it's reason,
Is that even life at all?
Living only for the season,
As passes summer to fall.
Is there life beyond that place,
Where you dream to be?
Why must I the future, face?
This futures not for me!
So give me life in all its wonder,
Give me air to breathe.
Give me hope to cast asunder,
Upon the day you leave.
Give me pain and give me hell.
Above all of these things,
Give me a short story to tell,
For death the future brings.