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Life of a Broken Heart
It’s funny how someone can break your heart.
A muscle is something that cannot break.
But as I’m here with tears all down my face.
Not knowing if you should just fall apart,
or just stand there and accept the heartache.
I’ll wait here crying on my bedroom floor.
Was there ever a way to make you stay?
Will you ever walk back through my closed door?
These are things I ask myself everyday.
To dream is one of the very worst things.
Your mind takes you close to your deep dark thoughts,
And tortures you with the sadness it brings.
Dealing with this is hard; it can’t be taught.
I hope I start to see good days come back.
For now I’ll stay where there’s nothing but black.
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