Of Broken Things!

The heart plummeted for words,

Such deceptive little obsessions,

They make you heave or swirl,

They compel you to gleam or bleed galore.

Not conquered the art yet,

To identify people for who they are,

Not surmounted the art yet,

To convert my heart to cold dust afar.

So sometimes the pain bubbles underneath,

Waiting to erupt one day like a dormant volcano it seems,

Empty hearts, malicious needs,

How selfish has the world become indeed.

So you take off to another world,

A world where you build high walls,

You wait no longer for someone,

To break or climb to prove at all.

There is some solace,

To know what the other is composed of,

Sagaciously observe individuals,

To know the hidden agendas of all.

So forget the ones that cause you pain,

It was all just a game to them anyway,

How they left you mid-way and played,

Because they were never yours anyway.