His life is like a
tunnel,
Long and
dark,
It almost seems never
ending.
He contemplates
crashing,
Smashing his car into the
wall,
Creating his own
death,
But he worries of those behind
him.
He worries that the tunnel could
collapse,
So he holds it up
himself,
He worries that it is
breaking,
So he takes time to fix every
crack.
He holds it
up,
As you pass
through,
Because he would do anything to have
you smiling,
And anything to cause himself
pain.
His life is like a
tunnel,
Only he's only holding it up for
you,
He wants to drop
it,
But who can he trust to hold it
up,
If he gets tired and has to let
go?
His life is like a
tunnel,
And he is the
beam,
He won't let it hurt
you,
He'll let you cause him
pain.
His life is like a
tunnel,
Long, dark and
cold.
His life is like a
tunnel,
And his grip is growing weak.
My poem
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