I was born with a paper heart,
Soon to be ripped up and torn apart.

Written upon it were false hopes and dreams,
Scribbled out,
Paper heart ripped at the seams.

Folded until tight and not allowing in light,
People tried but I withstood with all my might.

My delicate heart was not to be touched,
Fear of more hurt, in my hand it stayed clutched.

So under my watch my paper heart will stay,
Until the day that the wind blows it away.

Written by my closest confidant and dearest friend, Will Power.