Where Do You Take Your Heart On Fridays And Saturdays? Poem by Amy rhian Oleary

Monday we are just starting over,
Replaying our lives like puppets to each other,
we held eachother so close yesterday
But by wednesday we are just living seperately in our own little way,
Thursday you can hardly stand my voice,
then friday comes you've made youre choice.

Where do you take your heart when you take it from my arms?
who do you give it to when its left my shaking palms?
does she take good care of it like i did all these years?
when you give it and she takes it, do you tell her that its hers?
like you told me it was mine,
and ive held it all this time.

So when you arrive home with your heart on a saturday night,
and its past the tick of time,
please can i remind you that this heart was once mine,
im glad urs is still special because mine it feels raw,
so from me can you tell your heart i dont want it any more!