On pedestals of paper,
My trust is placed in them.
So, it should come as no surprise,
When my foundation crumbles in.
And when the thing I’m hoping in
Shatters to the ground,
I’m reminded, once again,
Why in the Rock, my hope is found.
We have paper hearts,
That bleed paper red,
And tear up at the seams,
And our pedestals –
That are paper too –
Bleed false hope and shattered dreams.