Grave Digging.

Would you still choose me?
Even now when we've been fighting, and I've torn my wings?
Shot down about a hundred times for our future needs.
Never letting us get fully buried, I kicked the dirt off,
and in between.
Never meaning what you've meant to me.
I feel like this has been dug up constantly,
but I still try to speak.
Sometimes, even beg and plead.
Then, retract the meaning in order to keep this clean.
I'm at a breaking point of certain things,
And one of them is this uncertainty.

Author's Note

Criticism should always be constructive. ;-)