This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at TAMU chapter.
The hearts of most people
Pound for themselves and others,
But foolish hearts can only beat
And bleed raw for another.
It hurts, to have more to give
Than I will ever receive,
But I don’t know how else to live.
I was made to love, I believe.
I’d take a bullet for a stranger
Who’d spit on me, in turn.
Offer my heart on a platter
To those who’d watch me burn.
But it’s all right, my dove
‘Cause I was made to love.