The Dead Heart

  What is love? Caring deeply for somebody, is it not?
"I love you," they say. Do they mean it? I found not.
   They never loved me, for they knowingly hurt me.
         Is that love? Nein, it is not.
                     It is not.

     I given them all, all that I can. Broken I am.
        No reason for my pain, no reason at all.
                I am but a wasted soul.
                      Unforgiven.

          They knowingly hurt me, it was not love.
           I was lied to, my heart stomped upon.
                A love bird without a mate.
                       Dead inside.

            In the blackened sky my heart resides.
             A periquito whom no longer sours.
                 Am I the dumb one always?
                       Simply dead.

               They've known what hurts me.
                  This periquito heart.
                     This dead heart.
                      My dead heart.