You crumple my heart like a piece of
old newspaper
Words roll from your lips like strategically
placed swords
They slam into my aching heart
My heart is a toy, it seems.

Things you dislike, my shortcomings
And my imperfections are thrown in my face
Without a bit of remorse...and you walk away
Leaving me half the man I used to be
Because my heart is a toy, it seems...
© 1999 Rob Murphy