A poem about the personal strengths (and weaknesses) of the heart.

In the roots of the heart, the deepest truths are.

It holds the reasons behind every thought, every word, and every emotion.

The roots grow from the little seed of who we really are.

Our hearts can act as a haven, keeping us from a cruel world.

Through this we hide ourselves, our sadness, our pain, and our love.

All that we are can be hidden in the chambers under lock and key.

In the heart, there are no lies or false truths.

Yet like anything else, the heart can be damaged.

When we open our hearts to someone and truly let them in,

They are signing their name on it, making a place for them.

If they should ever betray, their signature grows into a scar.

Their place is now a hollow, haunted area.

Sometimes the scars don’t go away and leave the pain eternal.

The sadness and hurt eats away a heart like an acid.

The only way for some to heal is to harden their heart against others,

Never to have it touched by another again.

They must hide it away.

They know that by doing this they will never have a heart of gold,

But a heart of rusted metal built to protect.

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