Not A Game That Blames

I don't want to make empty promises to a heart so bruised;
those three simple words that were left so abused...

this thing we call love was thrown out the window;
a heart this torn will never be aglow.

go ahead and play your petty, little games;
love is not a game that blames.

this will not be the end;
a broken heart I will always fend.

I am left of a broken heart with no cure;
but this feeling I must endure.

this is not the end,
for I know this I will amend.

how I wish everything to be different;
I always knew you weren't that brilliant.

however, you are now long gone;
and I have moved on...