Heart

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Do not ask me
Why I am single.
My heart is not mine
To give away freely.
Someone else has
Taken it from me.
They aren't taking
The best care
Of it - in fact,
They've probably
Left it laying around.
They're probably
Treating it like
They do their
Homework.
It's probably
Been left on the ground
To be stomped on,
Walked over,
Torn up,
Chewed,
And spit back out.
But, my heart still
belongs to them.
And I'm sure it will,
Long after they've forgotten
That they even have it.

Poetry (and other shit)Onde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora