The heart is not a game to play,
For a broken heart can tear a life apart.
A harbinger of pain and of delight,
That once broken, can never be right.
It's a fickle thing,
This heart it seems.
Never knowing, yet constantly aware;
Craving more, for contentment is rare,
It searches for love, but runs at a rush.
For a squeezing heart fears being crushed.
So is my heart broken?
Make what it you deem,
But I've become numb to all things it seems.
YOU ARE READING
Poetically Hard Learned Lessons
PoetryA book capturing, teaching, and forewarning first hand lessons, and experiences of life.
