Whose heart is that?
I think I know,
Its owner is quite sad though,
It really is a tale of woe,
I watch her frown. I cry, “Hello?”
She gives her heart a shake,
And sobs until the tears slake.
The only other sound’s the break
Of distant waves; now birds awake.
Surely the heart is broken, buried dark and deep,
But she has promises to keep,
Until then she cannot sleep,
She lies in bed with worries that steep.
She rises from her bitter bed, the sadness sulking in her head,
She romanticizes darkness caused by seeping red,
and faces today with a never-ending dread.