Skeptical is the heart that is forever broken.
Left in ruins and wishing for revival,
This heart beats in slight pulses.
Untrusting is the heart never allowed to heal.
In peices jagged as glass,
Yet it some how remains to beat.
Waiting for the final blow is the heart who knows only pain.
Ever suspecting that this one will be the last,
Always finding that it will be broken again.
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