In a little while from now,

If I'm not feeling any less sour,

I promised myself, to treat myself,

And visit a nearby tower

And climbing to the top,

Will throw myself off,

In an effort to, make clear to whoever,

What it's like when you're shattered

Left standing in the lurch,

At a church where people are saying

My God, that's tough, she stood him up,

No point in us remaining

May as well go home,

As I did on my own,

To think that only yesterday,

I was cheerful, bright and gay.

Looking forward to-Who wouldn't do- the role I was about to play.

But, as if to knock me down,

Reality came around,

And without so much as a mere touch,

Cut me into little pieces.

Leaving me to doubt, talk about God and His mercy,

Who, if He really does exist,

Why did He desert me?

And in my hour of need,

I truly am indeed,

It seems to me that there are more hearts,

Broken in the world that can be mended,

Left unattended, what do we do?

What do we do?

Looking back over the years,

And whatever else that appears.

I remember I cried when my father died,

Never wishing to hide the tears.

And at sixty-five years old,

My mother, God rest her soul,

Couldn't understand why the only man,

She had ever loved had been taken.

Leaving her to start, with a heart so badly broken,

Despite encouragement from me,

No words were ever spoken

And when she passed away,

I cried and cried all day,