Heather adamkiewicz

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Paper Hearts

they seem to have paper hearts, so easily they burn
they seem so weary of the dark, which causes, them great concern.
they seem to have minds of glass, so easy they do break,
haunting memories of the past, fears making mistakes.

and is this real, or is this, only my illusions,
do they truly feel, or are their words painted delusions?
they seem to have paper hearts, so easy for them to burn,

They seem to know all the words, but it's empty what they say,
they say they understand hurt, but pain is a game they play,
they seem an endless many, drones of them embark,
on what they call love, flowing through their paper hearts

they seem to have paper hearts, so simple to be shred,
they seem to have minds of glass, broken in their head.
but is this real, or have I, been ignorantly mistaken?
they seem to have souls like reeds, with wind easily shaken.

they run from truth and loyalty, to feed there selfish whim,
at any sign of adversity, they choke and they stumble,
on their words that have no meaning, except to fill the air,
they seem to have paper hearts, or do they truly care?

they seem to have paper hearts, or will I one day learn,
after the torn up paper, there; s still a heart that yearns,
they seem to have minds of glass, but are my judgements tattered,
thet truly do have meaning, eventhough they can be shattered.

and is the real or am I, just shooting in the dark,
and can they feel the beating of my paper heart?

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