In a house full of unread books
In a house full of unworn clothes
Lived a lady with an unused heart.
I often wondered how this ladies heart came to be
Full of thorns and full of scorn.
In a house of open heart
In a house of open mind
Lived a lady with open wounds.
People often wondered
How she came to be
Surrounded by brambles that she refused to cut.
In the house full of stale laughter
In the house full of fresh tears
Lived a lady that was numb from the heart.
I often wonder how it will end
Apathy and self pity create barriers impenetrable
For the lady with a heart of thorns.