HEART
This heart can’t tell,
The truth or the lies,
The heart can’t tell,
Bad or nice,
It tells what it desires,
No matter what the price is,
The mind suffers,
But it remains there,
In the small crowded hideout,
Leaving it’s accountability,
To the tears that dropped,
Down onto the face,
of the endless hope,
Wishing she never had that heart,
Her own heart that tears itself,
Into the pieces of despair.
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