deepundergroundpoetry.com
"No heartache with-out a heart."
I’ll curve my heart out and place it in a box, my keep-sake gift to you,
The continuous beating caused me pain, it had to be removed.
Keep it if you must, through it if you will,
My inability to smile again; it might as well stand still.
Loving without return is like a question without an answer,
It eats away at me; proclaim it to be my cancer.
Stamp out the fading embers in the dying flame,
It pains me to know that you’ll never call my name.
Grief pent up will break the heart, but you already did the deed to mine,
You’re like a batch of poison, vile and serpentine.
Like an open wound, infect and eat away,
The open wound caused by your hand has turned my heart to clay.
“Small sorrows speak; but great ones are silent” so I’ll purse my lips tight,
Don’t make a scene, don’t cause a fuss, it’s really quite alright.
There’s no time for sorrow, no time for pain,
Such melancholic misery brings out no gain.
I’ll take it with a smile, grinning ear-to-ear,
Slit my wrists in two; it’s all your fault dear.
The continuous beating caused me pain, it had to be removed.
Keep it if you must, through it if you will,
My inability to smile again; it might as well stand still.
Loving without return is like a question without an answer,
It eats away at me; proclaim it to be my cancer.
Stamp out the fading embers in the dying flame,
It pains me to know that you’ll never call my name.
Grief pent up will break the heart, but you already did the deed to mine,
You’re like a batch of poison, vile and serpentine.
Like an open wound, infect and eat away,
The open wound caused by your hand has turned my heart to clay.
“Small sorrows speak; but great ones are silent” so I’ll purse my lips tight,
Don’t make a scene, don’t cause a fuss, it’s really quite alright.
There’s no time for sorrow, no time for pain,
Such melancholic misery brings out no gain.
I’ll take it with a smile, grinning ear-to-ear,
Slit my wrists in two; it’s all your fault dear.
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