One day I carved a heart of stone; chipping away, I found it bleeds. How odd that even the most concrete of emotions can find a way to spill out in a puddle of despair. How could this have happened? I was happy. Dancing on a stage in enjoyment of my controlled life. With a twist of her wrist she would express my devotion. Then came the day when a new puppet stole her heart-so fancy with his painted face and plastic charm. Forgotten I became, lost and broken. When the times were good they were really good-now I form a noose from the very strings that used to make me happy. I beg of you please cut me free, let me dance for another. Love is a play with no ending. We live for the moment and relish in the feelings-only to again be left with a cliffhanger. Do we tune in for another episode or pull the plug completely?