Just A Heart

A heart is very delicate,
Just like a spell;
A blink, and its broken!
It speaks only in glances,
No words,
Just pure silence.
Now and then it bleeds
And all that one sees
Are shimmering pools in moist eyes!
Once in a while it may even cry,
only to be hidden behind an empty laugh.
But every heart is lonely,
More deserted than the street round the corner.
And so it dreams,
Dreams more colourful than an artists canvas;
More fragile than a butterfly's wings.
And in those dreams
It sees its companion;
For dreams somehow shatter,
And every heart somehow breaks!