The Glass From My Chest

A bleeding heart perched on my shirt.
I pick out the glass peices from my chest.
And looking down the winding road.
I dare not pause to rest.

I can not stare into her cold black eyes.
They remind me of the times I had.
And even when I faked that joyous smile.
On the inside-I was really not glad.

Not even all the rays from the sun.
Can brighten my darkest of days.
No even the clearing in the trees.
Can help me find my way.

Of course,I loved her.
And I wanted her too.
But although her love lasted long.
I was over soon.

And looking down the winding road.
The bleading heart perched on my shirt.
Gave a sigh of sour sorrow.
And disappeared along with the dirt.