What if I played you like a broken drum?
What if I played you for an ounce of fun?
You ran toward me like a moth to a flame,
And lost the pennies glued to your pretty name.
What if I just wanted to do the trick?
What if my cold heart is made out of solid brick?
You collected me like a rare piece of art,
Now you tell me to burn when we’re torn apart.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 