The past is where the hurt lives... —by Clandestine Amadana Yes, it's always the past That's where the hurt lives The parts you can never get over The parts that would have made you whole. Some of us lose too many pieces to the past Pieces essential to making us complete And when we lose too many pieces to the past Our hearts become like shattered glass. Especially if one of the key pieces, One of the essential parts, of the whole  Is lost...like You. Like you. 'Twas only you who could have made me complete You, Lost in my past...forever. Copyright © 2006 Ireland's OWN  Page last updated 24 Oct 2006 Ireland's OWN Faded Roses Background by Míchealín Daugherty Copyright © 2006 Ireland's OWN. All Rights Reserved.