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
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