Delicate bonds can be broken;
Like you and me,
The storybook is deprived.
The unyielding faith
Is missing.

Because promises don’t always mean something,
At least, not as much as when they were made.
You looked me in the eyes,
Watched me with those pretty orbs.

Sympathy has deceived me.
My own love for you has betrayed me.
My lonely and abandoned figure
Withstanding the icy wind.

All I wanted was a home
Where there was warmth.
No angst, no uneasiness.

I’ve became wary of this.
My tears have cleared out my vision,
My heartbreak has prepared me for the next one,
And these perplexities have made me smarter.