Stab me in my heart
And twist it all around
It cannot be worse
Than this pain I've found.
I built up these walls
And you tore them down.
I gave you my heart
You threw it on the ground.
My heart is broken,
Scattered all around
A million pieces
That can't be found.
What is this pain
That does now abound?
What are these tears
That keep pouring down?
Silver Moon Poetry
Poetry is what gets lost in translation ~Robert Frost~
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