Splinter

I have this splinter in my heart.

Cold and sharp, it makes me start.

It has no business being there,

I wish I could learn not to care.

A proper person minds it not,

Their woes, once felt, are soon forgot.

They brush away their tears and smile,

All is forgiven, in a while.

But in me it’s claws dig so deep,

It makes me shudder, makes me weep.

And no matter how I scream and shout,

I cannot get that splinter out.

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