Useless

A poem by Richard Broadstreet (c)

My life is useless,
Now that you've gone astray,
I miss you, my love,
More than anything else,
I made one mistake,
And you left me there,
Guilt eats at my conscience,
I am feeling the worst feeling deep inside,
I don't know how long I'll last,
You ripped my heart out,
And I can no longer live,
I take a blade in hand,
And drive it through my flesh,
I am dieing,
But going to a better place,
Useless blood seeps from the wound,
Like syrup from a wounded maple tree,
Goodbye, my love,
Goodbye.