These paper hearts of ours
Are bound to blow in the wind-
That is brought to us from our troubles.
They escape our own grasps.
And just like that,
These paper hearts of ours
Are in the hands of someone else.
These toxic tears of ours
Are bound to burn in the night-
That is thrust upon us from our sorrows.
They escape our own grasps.
And just like that,
These toxic tears of ours
Are bound to fall onto the shoulder of another.
These sharp words of ours
Are bound to cut in the lonesome hours-
That are brought to us from others.
They escape our own grasps.
And just like that,
These sharp words of ours
Are bound to inflict our own pain onto another.
These peaceful nights of ours
Are bound to kill us at first light-
That are brought to us from reminders of long ago.
They escape our own grasps.
And just like that,
These peaceful nights of ours
Are bound to be the things that make another wonder...
What we really wanted,
How we really felt,
And what bound us to do the things we did.
But they will never know.
Because they were not bound
To these tragic fates of ours.
~a.k.
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Paint Swatch Poems
PoetryA collection of my thoughts expressed through the art of words. © Alyssa Koepke ____________________ To see my first book of poetry, check out Polaroid Poems.
