You gave me a broken
Heart
And it came with Poetry
You broke my soul
And came and explosion of words Your memories became the force that.
moves my hand.
And you are stained forever on the papers I cried on.
As the rose was red, so was his passion,
He slowly cutt all of her thorns,
And Played with her petals with no compassion.
For he was a devil without horns.
