SAME S*** DIFFERENT DAY


Broken Butterfly

Sometimes is not a broken heart in my hands,
It’s a bruised ego
It’s a punctured pride
It’s a tattered esteem…

This is me desperately trying to puzzle out
Why people leave muddles they don’t bother to neaten?
Crumple on love like a worn out, used scrap book,
And they don’t have the decency to recycle
What happened to their sense of right conduct?

Why do they come into one’s life,
Stand in the door, blocking the traffic?
You met the door open, whilst you walked in
That door is still open, please walk out

This is a girl who has  fallen, she’s been there, and disappointed many times over,
But now learning to rebuild her wings, because she was made to soar.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

P!nk – Blow Me (One Last Kiss)

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