Broken Hand, Unbroken Love
By Cope
I hung up the phone, my patients spent, Full of frustration, I left a big ol' dent. I didn't know what to do, or why you were upset, When we said good-bye, the door and my hand met. At first it felt good, relieving the tension inside, In the power of distruction, I would confide. Suddenly it came, a dull pain at first, Once the swelling started, pain became the worst. The dent is pretty, perfect knuckle prints, I should've been smarter, a metal door barely dents. I look back now, with my broken hand, Our love really is strong, now I understand. I think of my hand, as a symbol of our love, We can't ever give up, on our gift from above. Our love is strong, lasting til we're gone, Even after, our love will still go on. All I can say, I am sorry for the dumb things I do, Just don't ever forget, I love you. Written February 26th, 2002 © on Feb 26 2002 06:45 AM PST 0 • 8
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"I hung up the phone, my patients spent,..."