Chapter 119 : Poetry: Crispy hearts

People say heart is fragile,

Easy to crush and easier to rush,

To the deepest ocean of lively tears

And to the happiest islands of fairy treats,

I love it all, I know it all,

Says the very heart,

It beats with hope and tropes,

Maybe it's all an illusion,

Maybe it's illiterate with reality,

Because all it knows, the poor old heart:

Is to sing and be free,

To trust and not be rude,

Reality strikes and tears rushes down.

I call it crispy like the snack,

Thin, easy and breakable,

Crumbling bits of easy pieces,

Just like a shattered glass

More like, One broken heart.

It is crumbled, crusty and left,

After realising it is not full,

But just a drop of an ocean.

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