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Stain Glass Heart.
March 28, 2009
I wish I had a heart of gold,
Weaved with the finest thread of veins.
Instead my heart was blown to glass,
Stained black with pain.
Some people say
There's a silver lining to every cloud you see,
But those who go out searching
always end up like me.
With a broken heart,
a heart of glass.
Shattering to pieces.
A stab in the heart,
a slit of my throat,
and the blood would run red.
Leaving my shallow stain glass heart,
out of it's broken thread.
© Krystal B., Bloomingdale , IL
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