Stolen Hearts of an Idealistic Cause
Stare at me I am the one,
Who stole your hearts,
And made a run,
For something I believed in,
Romantics will fall,
Beneath any writer's headstone wall,
as the publicists never cease to surprise,
A beautiful demise,
What Irony can be found,
In an American dream,
To love a life still left to hound,
At destiny's doorstep,
What life do we have,
Other that to help those in need,
To survive the three old blind hags,
Eager to cut your string
I dare you to take a stab,
At your own beliefs in your heart,
To find my irony,
My dreams,
My needs,
They are all for you to try and bring you out of the cave,
Your puppet masters put you in so long ago
poem by Trent Delomel
Added by Poetry Lover
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