Though seasons pass and years go by, They will not stop the tears I cry, And though may fall the gentle rain, It will not wash away my pain, And though there may be a tomorrow, It will not take away my sorrow, For when you and I became apart, You took a piece of my broken heart, I only ask that you give it back, So I can get my life on track, And I can somehow heal this broken heart, And somehow make a brand new start, I donβt think this is much to ask, A very simple little task, So my poor heart can somehow mend, And I can start to live again.
02-12-10.
This cheerful little number is the seventh of the 67Goat poems...