A ripped poem

I'm saving it, it's hidden.
I'm treasuring it, it's save.
No one will be given.
Until it'll forced to take.


Some of the lost pain are inside.
While the rest still undercover.
When you still want it to be divide.
I'll take a luck from my clover.


My friend, it's all about you.
The paths you've walked, it's behind you.
I know what's the most of you is true.
I'm so sorry when I feel the most of blue.


You gave me the inspire.
Hold me up high, high up to the sky.
You hold my hands, take me out of my grave.
And then I finally realized, of my dreams and how to fight.