1/23/13

Writhing hearts lay in their boxes,
Pumping furiously, ever trying.
Absorbing all the deadly toxins,
Unconsciously, slowly dying.

They hold on to a brighter hope,
That something good lies ahead.
Yet they don't have the wider scope,
That would suffocate with dread.

They think their boxes tight enough,
Thinking nothing can get in.
But the world has already called their bluff,
The cracks, though many, are thin.

The toxic vapors squeeze through,
To watch the hearts as they try.
Breathing words golden and true,
Breeding yet another lie.

With each new painful deception,
A heart beats unsteady.
Until the heart makes the correction,
It will never be ready.

Societal fumes of such despair,
Block the saving oxygen.
There is not enough mountain air,
To save the hearts from sin.

In their boxes they will beat,
Unsteady as they go.
They have already learned defeat,
Lies are all they know.