Gilded Hearts wither in the storms of life.
Gilded Hearts pass by me each day. Coaxed by their comfortable lives into a drum sound of normalcy.
Gilded Hearts are predictable in their white picket fence lifestyles.
But are they ever really living life to the fullest?
Gilded Hearts are prejudice of those different from them.
Gilded Hearts break too easily because I used to be one of them. Always with a stick up my ***. Then I learned about people who were different from me. Until I realized I wasn't Gilded Hearted at all. But someone different from the Gilded Hearts.
Where I reveal my emotional scars like trophies and the gold fades away then I am just me.
Gilded Hearts act like they are gods and goddesses when in reality: They are only human.