Hearts gone cold

Butcher

I hope that it's real, rather I yearn for it to be so
Every beat, every thought and so aches my soul
My reflection an apparition I long to depart
Here I lay dreaming, wishing for a new start

Can the cup that's broken ever be repaired
Should we trust a two legged chair
Dull knives, dim lights, or a dead battery
I'm useless, these words not meant for flattery

Ah, I feel it piercing painfully                                 My cries are looked upon disdainfully               You cut from me that which you want          Strung up and tied a trophy to flaunt

Finding my home in the butchers' display        Only pleased when you see my dismay                You fill me with hope and hold me in reserve   If not ignorant, is it what I truly deserve