Thy Fickle Heart (Gossamer Ribbons and Heartstrings)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Yay for over-sensitive people. We burst into tears at the drop of a top hat and are proud of it. This poem is for us.

Submitted: February 12, 2010

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Submitted: February 12, 2010

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How strange, how fickle is a heart?
How odd it’s keeper?
I should know not, I fear;
For mine is too easily torn apart.
 
Salt crystals and egg shells surround my path,
How dost thou walk?
How dost thou talk? Sayth I;
The life, the love a shadow cast.
 
How doth my happiness set like a cup and saucer?
How fragile it is;
Pray do not break it;
For I give it to you, like sugared sunlight and frosted gossamer;
 
Tie the ribbons to thy wrists;
My heart on sleeve,
Bleed to your hands; ink to paper,
Intertwine thy fingers, a mortal kiss.
 
How strange, how fickle is a heart?
How dost one judge?
To love and hurt, to feel,
To remain like winter’s breath while you part.
 
 


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