The Murder of My Heart

Another stab, another wound, another scar to bear I wonder if my little heart will find the will to care It has been mutilated; its fibers have been shred By all the hurtful things that to it have been said Its beating is becoming faint, its rhythm is disturbed Brought on by the rejection that on it was conferred The blood is gushing out, a never ending stream Perhaps it will finally stop while I sit and dream The murder of my heart, was done without a scene By the outer evidence, the job was very clean The murderer got away, he left no fingerprints No one knows his identity, for he left behind no hints I buried my little dead heart and paid it proper due The gravesite is a mystery that I’ll not reveal to you Don’t bother to stop by and place flowers by the grave Your pretentious act of kindness, your honor will not save A murderer you are and a heinous one you'll remain For though I have no heart, I still feel the phantom pain. Eileen Manassian Ghali