How Cold Is a Heart
How cold is a heart,
that sees no light,
continuing the battle,
mistaking wrong for right.
How blind are the eyes,
that refuse to see,
kindness offered,
always within reach.
How sad are the days,
to be spent alone,
as if there is no conscience,
and no kindness is shown.
A rebel of sort,
clinging to a ghost within,
unable to recognize,
enemy from friend.
How cold is a heart,
that chooses to be alone,
forgetting the importance,
time is moving on.
Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2009
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