Hung me from the highest pole, until my last breath.
I rather be dead than to start all over with you.
Watch me starve myself to death, than to eat to try and flush the pain away.
My emotional dilemma had taken a toll on me, from all my distress of a hurtful ending
Asking myself, what had I done wrong?
How did this came about?
Where were you or I when we needed each other's affection?
And....
Why did this had to happen to me?
Picture me broken! But not like a heart in two. Like a white dress worn, then tore and dirty like rubbish on the street of a slum smother with hatred.
Then left aside to be picked up by a garbage truck, after miles of traveling I'll be disposed and group as non-renewable resource.
I'll be there until rotten and faded all alone with a broken heart
So picture me broken.
Yanique Ford
