My heart is molten gold.
poured into a shape,
it beats.
~
But then,
someone takes it,
claiming it for
itself.
~
It wore my heart
on it's sleeve
like a mere
piece of prettyness
instead of my heart.
~
Then it cut a slit
in my heart
with its foul tongue.
It took the most pure
and beautiful bits on my heart
and sold them to the rest
of the world.
~
But still my heart beats
of its own accord,
bound not
to beat to someone elses whim.
They cannot change
nor destroy
the beat,
yet they can, and they've tried,
to dim the rhythm
beating in my heart of
molten gold
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