COLD METAL

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Cold metal stair,
head held in my quivering hands.
I remember how cold my hands felt. It was a cold day.
It has never warmed up from that day.
Damn, when I think how cold those tears were. And to think once that I said I will never cry.
Time has gone by,
I have only seen the girl that put me here a few times.
I can’t help but think that maybe she never cared.
That time I gave her was something she just let me do. Even though time has past,
part of me is still on those stairs. Those cold, hard, and miserable stairs that I cant walk away from.
I can picture what it must have looked like that day.
Camouflage draping from a sorry little man with no hair,
and no face.
I can see it. It must be the saddest day of my life.
No one offered to help me off those stairs. And I even yelled, “why?”
My own echo only answered me. It answered with question.
A question I still ask myself…
”why?”