My heart is not a basket
It cannot take any more garbage
It bleeds here and there; and
Blood oozes out like tears
I gave places in my heart
For those whom I love
For those whom I care for
The love, the care, the sadness or the joys
Whatever they returned were stored
In their places.
As the days passed.. I got;
A foul smell from some of the places
Which were kept as special..
I ignored the smell and continued with it
I tried to pretend to have a bad cold
But.. slowly slowly my tolerance decreased
The smell started irritating me a lot
I opened my heart and examined each place
Some of the places were half filled
Some of the places were not filled at all
Some of the places were filled with garbage
Which were expected to have filled with flowers..
With a bleeding heart and filled up eyes
I cleaned the places and locked them for ever…
Because my heart is not a basket
It cannot take any more garbage..
