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The Broken Hearted

The Broken Hearted



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Published by Victoria Chen
This is a series of poems written by me and a friend, mostly me, when I had to go through a hard time at one point. It's not necessarily a break up, but these poems were good enough that I thought they should be here. :)

Credits to ArielleS for contributing to this piece.
This is a series of poems written by me and a friend, mostly me, when I had to go through a hard time at one point. It's not necessarily a break up, but these poems were good enough that I thought they should be here. :)

Credits to ArielleS for contributing to this piece.

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Published by: Victoria Chen on May 12, 2009
Copyright:Traditional Copyright: All rights reserved


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To all of those who have had their hearts broken.
This is a series of a collection of poems and prose created by Victoria Chen and close friends, and manyothers, who have all had their hearts broken. Listen to their pleas – they cry out for the only thing theywant – to be loved again, by the ones they adore and admire.
Table of Contents
Lament of a Broken Heart
by Victoria Chen
Silent Tears
by Rachel Tay
Save me from your pain
by Victoria Chen
The Storm
by Victoria Chen
The Snow
by Victoria Chen
Calls of the World
by Victoria Chen
Under the Apple Tree
by Victoria Chen
Summer’s Day End
by Victoria Chen
You were
by Victoria Chen
Lament of a Broken Heart
By Victoria ChenI thought he was different – someone who could see “below the surface”, someone who had a caringnature, someone who selflessly cares for those around him.But I guess I was wrong. He turned out to be just like all the other guys.I cared for him because he cared for me. I smiled whenever he was happy – because after everythinghe’s done for me, it’s the least that I can do. I had to go through a lot of pain and stress in order to getwhere I was – but once I got there,He turned out to be just another guy.Everything I do for him, I feel like it’s not enough to give him in return for what he’s given me,regardless of how he feels about me or I him. I didn’t care if he hated me to the very depths of his being – I would have still liked him because I saw the pure goodness in him, something that no one could see.Some girls may be searching for a hunk to look good with, or a guy regarded “hot” by the standards of everyone else, in which he fit into both categories, but I? I was searching for a guy who was kind atheart, a good person, a caring person, someone who could love me for who I am, not what I am on thesurface, someone who would care for me, no matter what happened between us. I didn’t care if we didor didn’t look good together.And when I finally found him – the one who fit into all of this,He turned out to be just like all the others.I cry, not because I’m lamenting of what has been lost, but rather, I cry for him, because he doesn’trealize what passed him by was something that comes once in a lifetime. I cry, because he will never realize that you can’t judge a girl by how well she returns his attentions with flirts, kisses, or the way sheholds him close, but rather, by her character. I cry because I believed that I could be all of this for him, but I turned out to be wrong;He was just another guy.By God, I still like him, more than he will ever know. Even though he thinks we’re just back to friends,he doesn’t realize that you can’t just talk these things away. But if he insisted that I don’t see him anymore, or talk to him, I would do so, if it made him happy. If he insisted that I remove myself from thecountry, I would do so, if it made him happy.As long as he was happy, I wouldn’t care whether or not he liked me the way I do for him. I care for himtoo much for that. If he broke my heart into a dozen pieces, I would leave them where they fell, until hedecides to pick them up for me and piece them together again.I’ve never felt this way about a guy – and he doesn’t realize this, because to him, girls are judged byhow well they flirt back, not how their character is. I want to teach him what the meaning of “love” is. Iwant to teach him that love is about when you care for someone more than you care for yourself. Love iswhat I feel for him – it’s what’s kept me going all these years, even if my love for another hasn’t beenreturned.He may just be another guy, but I still care about him.
Silent Tears
By Rachel TayThe days fly by when I’m with you, though they slow to a crawl when I’m alone.What more can I do for you? I’m still wishing, waiting.I won’t stop. I cannot stop. Not now, when all I have is being held tight by only a single strand of something.A thread of friendship.A single silver of hope.Once I thought you were my friend, and regardless would stand by me.Or at least have some conscience not to hurt me.Turns out, the star I wished on faded away just minutes later.They do not understand how I feel. No one does. Why?Is it just me? Am I strangely malfunctioning in comparison to the rest of Nature’s devices?I still do not care.You had me at the beginning.Why do you listen to the rumors of the jealous?They have turned you against me, and there’s nothing I can do about it.Maybe sometime in the near future you will see how clearly they rail you against me.But for now you are colder than the coldest enemy I could ever have.So they think it is unsuitable. For one so young and the other much more mature.But the things I feel for you are nothing to be “disgusted” or “frowned upon” by the strict vultures of our society, preying on the despair and agony of the laws of conformity in our world.In another life, maybe.Another world.Another dimension.Another time.Another chance.Why do I adore thee?Let me count the ways…Alas but I cannot do so, for once I start, I cannot stop.Your flaws I adore and your perfections even greater.The others around you are so superficial.They look at you on the outside and pretend to view the “new clothes” that you wear.I percept your mind, yet the “villagers” turn their noses up in ignorant arrogance.Me, the “young child” who shrieked the truth into your ears, praying some sort of angel would guideyou, was left isolated and disappointed.Disappointed in you or them you ask?Both I gather.More you than them.They are forgiven for this behavior I would have not done any different were I them.But I am not, and you are not.There is no excuse for the way someone I thought to be my close friend and mentor to treat me.While they cast disparaging glances down their hooked beaks at me, I had withstood them. Staredstraight ahead in silent determination.

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