My heart you could easily see,
For I wore it on my sleeve.

But you took it, and tore it apart.
So I tried to move my heart

Back to where it belonged
But it was on my sleeve for far to long

Its cords, you had taken and separated.
Its original form was now dilapidated

So somehow I had make it look nice,
So I boxed it in, and covered it in ice.

Now you say that I’m not the same,
That there is no passion, no flame.

Well what you say is true,
Because I have nothing left,
At least not for you!

That is a great poem... I've been there before, a few times.. I really feel it. Good going. It just makes me smile, to know, though, I can still get through it and feel, live, and love life.. That while not all wounds heal, we can always feel new feelings.

Great going! So full of meaning.