Chisel the hearts with soft stroke, <br />As it is not hard as the stones and the rocks, <br />All the hearts are carved with sharp knives, <br />Of experience to face the future prepared, <br />The molded hearts are there, easily bruised, <br />With the yielding of the words of swords, <br />The molten planning poured into millions of molds, <br />All think the same; all are hurt with blames, <br />Flames of fury erupts to torch and tame, <br />Heart sculptured of stones, beaten for many times, <br />Stand erect under the fair and fiery weathers, <br />Not interested to wrestle with glass hearts, <br />For the fear of breaking it into thousands, <br />Of weeping pieces, it always moves away with a swift movement, <br />Either way, the hearts of glass are always at the risk.<br /><br />veeraiyah subbulakshmi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/averting/
