my dead beating heart
my stone, my stone
oh my cold stone heart
why are you callaous and set apart?
my black, my black
oh my shriveled black heart?
why when I need you, do you depart?
my hard, my hard
oh my hard broken heart
like a tattered old painting you are no longer art
my rough, my rough
oh my rough tortured heart
threw away everything and make to depart
my torn, my torn
oh my poor torn heart
we made the wrong choice, one that we thought was smart
my scarred, my scarred
oh my lost scarred heart
why oh why didn't we impart
my beaten, my beaten
oh my battered beaten heart
we both saw the signs that this feeling was dark
my dead my dead
now my dead beating heart
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
TamingOfSeaWolves
Just your typical geek. If you care to look deeper though...You can see the layers I have created. The worlds I call my own live in my imagination. Creating riddles and poems and lives and characters to become and get lost in. No one knows me, or at least the me behind the blinds. PLEASE COMMENT instagram=tamingofseawolves
View all poems →Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (3)
Log in to leave a comment.