You broke my heart this morning.
I have no heart anymore.
So how do I keep on living
if my heart went out the door?
Do I just keep on breathing
hoping my heart can beat?
or lay right down and die girl
and hope that I can meet
my maker, my shaker
who'll help me understand
that you did not take my heart girl.
It wasn't what was planned.
Things just happen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem