Paper Heart

What is it?
He says he has a present,
That will always fit
and didn’t cost a cent.

I open the box
And inside is a work of art,
Not a knitted scarf or socks,
But a red paper heart.

It’s my love,
He says to me.
It’s not a hat or a glove,
But his life’s key.

I hold it to my chest
And put his hand there.
That’s where it fits best.
It shows me that he cares.

He may not be perfect,
But to me his is.
He has that affect
And I’m glad I’m his.

We may be “too young
To know love‘s reality,”
Yet we have our heart keys strung
And we’re not to kids with bad morality.

If I leave him,
I’d never be able to live.
That’s why I stay through thick and thin,
And make the best of what I can give.

I love that paper heart,
And keep it right by mine.
From him I will never depart,
So our hearts can intertwine.