My pen has failed me I sit with it and Sheets of lined paper Ready to be filled But the words don't flow right They're no longer adequate to express This dull, aching hopelessness Of knowing that I've lost my heart Handed it away to someone Who was much too careless As words lined the already lined page Bleeding hearts with barbed wire vines Etched into the paper During my wait for words To pick their way out of my head I listen to their sound as they tread Through the minefield of my mind Getting in traps that distort their meaning Words like love becoming bleak Because it got stuck in the trap The trap that is you
Bleeding hearts as in the flower bush... Nothing quite so corny as the heart shapes...