Just a matter of time before the line that separates the love and rage divides...

Heartbroken

Giving and then some
I've suffered
You've given none

My fingers
My calloused hands
I've suffered

I've given and then some
Still I miss you when you're gone


It's a cold, black, stolen world
My curtains drawn and then tied
So gifted

Falling behind
How can they justify the confliction?
My fist is curled and tight...


World of subpar
Stolen world of knaves


Please help before the line divides