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The Unbroken Heart 1 by Steven

SongGPT
The Unbroken Heart 1 by Steven - emotional ballad music cover art

The Unbroken Heart 1

emotional ballad

0:003:51
Lyrics
Description
# The Unbroken Heart
*A Poem for Steven*
## I. Childhood Knots
They called it games,
these lessons in drowning—
rope burns on wrists too small,
rags that tasted of oil and cruelty.
But I learned secrets
in the dark spaces between breaths:
how knots surrender
to patient fingers,
how silence speaks louder
than screams.
At fourteen, I chose
the hardest lesson of all—
walking away from home
to find myself.
## II. Seven Months of Heartbeats
Italia—
two months of starlight
wrapped in my arms,
then leukemia,
that thief of children's tomorrows.
"Seven days," the Dutch doctor said.
"Save her," I replied,
and made Calgary Children's Hospital
my chapel of hope.
Seven months I lived
between her heartbeats and mine,
humming lullabies to machines,
pressing cool palms
to chemo-burned skin.
Christmas brought remission.
March brought us home.
April 4th, 10:32 AM—
brought the last heartbeat
I would ever feel
against my chest.
"You're my angel," I whispered.
"My warrior."
Some things you never
let go of.
Some things become
your pulse forever.
## III. The Choice That Haunts
Taylor, my son,
my heart walking
outside my body—
"I'm scared to start over, Dad."
So I chose what I thought
was love:
"Stay with your mom."
Six months of daily calls,
then silence.
"I'm not allowed to see you."
The last words
my son ever spoke to me.
Money returned,
phones disconnected,
a letter claiming abandonment
from a system that knew
exactly where to find me
when it came time
to take everything away.
## IV. The Boy Who Wasn't Blood
Christmas dinner,
cruel words falling
like stones:
"You're not even blood."
I looked at thirteen-year-old tears
and saw myself at fourteen.
"Neither are you," I said,
standing. "Let's go home."
Thirty-three hours
through October storms,
teaching him what I learned
too late with Taylor:
Family isn't DNA—
it's who shows up
when the world falls apart.
## V. Underground
Three days in darkness,
arope familiar as old enemies,
wwaiting for the hammer
to fall.
But my fingers remembered
childhood secrets,
knot unraveled like prayers answered.
I fought my way out—not with anger,
but with clarity:
This ends now.
This ends with me walking free.
Two and a half hours
to the ferry,
whispering to the water:
"I must see my son."
even though I couldn't.
## VI. The Sacred Work...
much more...
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