Need Not, What You Give.

After what she`s done to me,
Why should I thank her?
She`s torn my heart asunder,
Ripped into pieces.
Pieces that are fed to the greedy,
And thrown at the needy.

Thank her for what?
This cut,
On my wrist.
Or this pitiful exist?

Takes from the poor,
and gives to the rich.
Why must I endure,
this hagged witch?

But still,
I find pity amongst,
the remains of my heart.
But I tear it apart,
with memories of hate.
And so will be my fate,
Until I depart,
This cruel world.