He works all day
and tries not to complain.
he'll do anything for her
in the moment of spur.
His eyes are open, but he doesn't see
with wishful thinking, he's losing me.
He tries so hard for them
he forgets about us, and then,
he's lost the game that never ends.
Wash the blood and rid of the stains
go to sleep and get up again.
Permanent probles with temporary solutions,
starts the tunnel with massive motion.
Almost done, just one more line before this poem I send,
maybe, just maybe, he'll understand why this has to end.
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