People steal what's attractive,
Who'd want a heart so battered?
That has been broken by betrayals,
And on multiple occasions shattered.
Some things are unmendable,
You can't glue the pieces of the heart,
Besides it's gone so far into isolation,
Even towards loud signals does it slowly dart.
Them that got it easily,
Toyed with it oh so well and let it fall,
Them that didn't get it that easy,
Left without trying at all.
And now there's no one waiting to steal,
This poor worn heart that'll never heal...
Or maybe slowly it'll again be able to feel,
All the emotions that it was meant for real.
YOU ARE READING
MUSINGS OF A SOLIVAGANT
PoetryJust like her solivagant mind wanders and the soft vernalagnia colors her cheeks, rosy - poetry swells from her inside. What her camera captures, spins words of hope and despair in her. Where the heart bleeds on to the paper, there springs poetry...
