Book of hearts

Opening the book that is my heart,

torn pages frail, unable to speak.

Seeking what has been sought by you,

feeling what you feel in my eyes crying.

Clouds raining hopes for the fear of life,

making love in the darkest dream.

Weakness has befallen me,

tearing apart torn pages.

Fragile paper my flesh,

painful pages reality.

Cover to cover my eyes,

shedding tears in between.

Blood flowing waters of love,

unseen heartfelt thoughts.

Carefully placed pictures this man,

loving the woman holding on.

Rip me apart these pages scorn,

in hell without numbers left on my heart.













Johnny Newell