Broken letters stain the page,
Marring the smooth, clean surface of white.
Spelling out tales of pain and anger,
And spots where tears have hit the paper.
Dark ink runs down the sheet,
Tears leaking from the scrawling words,
As they tell the story of sorrow you dare not read.
They pierce into the heart, mind, and soul,
Piecing together this story of misery,
Which seemed to escape your view.
Why didn’t you stop it in time?
You could have saved that life,
Kept those sentences from their construction.
Your hands tightly grip the terror,
Wrinkling the pages at the edges,
In an attempted to calm your nerves,
And focus enough to read the writing.
Steady your mind, your shaking body,
And plunge into the words,
Those that shoot daggers into your heart.
You could’ve saved the world from those broken letters.