BrokynSyn

Her name is Syn and that's her claim,
Her heart is broken; all that's left is her name.
She is so caught up in the writing game,
She had lost sight of life in search of fame.

What will become of this girl,
Standing fragile in this world.
She tries to stop this whirl,
the roller coaster life enough to make her hurl.

Poor little Syn burdened by hope,
Fighting day to day just to cope.
She see's no silver lining as she takes a toke,
And she writes another poem while she smokes.

Her ammo is her ink as she writes pain,
Her failing life that brings her shame.
When something comes along that's to hard to fein,
She cuts another slit and writes again.

What has she left but words on a screen,
The voices in her head that scream.
Poetry is the only release she has on her team,
It's all BrokynSyn is and all she's ever been.