whats the way
of the heart that's broken?
love woven into many things
and many strings dance through the heart,
a part of life that's torn
and worn by the strength of a needle,
such feeble hands with which to feel
the painfully real earthquake of sorrow
in which tomorrow doesn't seem very bright
and the night just seems too so dark
that a mark of sadness takes over
like a four leaf clover so impossible to find
and in your mind you don't mean a **** thing