Love is like being in a prison cell.
I know that some of you would disagree.
You could say heartbreak is a living hell
I realize as I start to break free.
As I try to repair a broken heart.
The chains wrapped around will loosen slowly.
You will always be a muse for my art.
Although I have never felt so lowly.
As I yearn for your voice to call my name.
The image of your face will slowly fade.
My love for you will always stay the same.
Even though you ignored my call for aid.
“I need to move on”, is what they will say.
But how can I? I still miss you each day.