By Amy Mulvaney
I sit and stare at the blank page below Pondering where to begin, to let the words flow Letting you take a glimpse into the unknown For me is quite daunting, but perhaps needs to be shown
You see for quite some time I have kept it hidden away And thus now I fear it has most definitely gone astray All it ever asked for was love, kindness and hope Instead I gave its marching orders And sent it off with a rope
I did not realise the damage it endured Not until this year, when it roared and roared and roared It decided to fight back and make a big stance So this time I noticed, taking more than just a glance
What is it you ask that I have treated so badly? It is not obvious, look in a mirror and you will see it, quite sadly The eyes are its window, its temple the heart For it is the soul that has been mistreated instead of like a timeless piece of art.