Hearts of Stone

You know how awful it is
To know there's no one to cry to,
No one who says
They're just jealous of you

You come home every night
Praying that tomorrow will be better
But try with all your might
The pillow just gets wetter

So you bury yourself in books
But only the ones that end well
Because you know that all of the crooks
End up in a cell

And you know it's not your fault
And you can't help but wonder why
They love to rub your wounds with salt
And cut your wings so you can't fly

And you end up pleading
For those monster to leave you alone
But didn't you know that evil never stops feeding
On those poor hearts not yet made of stone.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem