Rusted Heart

On my heart you poured a paint,
A red one,
Wine coloured,
Apparently representing love,
Recoating it thickly and keenly,
Your efforts seemed real.
On New Year's Eve-
I ran towards your treehouse,
With excitement as pure as wine.
A pair of stilleto heels coloured black,
Were lying on the grass,
Heard a hearty laughter the next minute,
I decided not to disturb you.
The silent night was perfect,
It was ideal for new lovers,
Lovers- who were "made for each other."
My teardrops had a moisturel effect,
The paint which drugged my heart,
Cajoled it to trust sheer lies,
Was washed away swiftly.
Corroded and utilised,
Strong heart- it still worked for my life,
And, continued beating competently.

©songbriti

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