Queen of Hearts

My heart once bled, and bled.
Until all the roses were painted red.
But when the blood finally dried,
I collected all the tears I cried,
And I demanded the roses to be painted white.
Everyone looks at the Queen of Hearts with shame,
But I understand that hearts are full of pain,
Some guarded with locks and chains,
Other hearts let their love flow down the drain.

Hearts are not easy things to handle,
Not easy to hold.
I can see why the Queen of Hearts grew cold.

I would too if I had to keep more hearts than my own,
Even though mine is kept in a cage of bones,
It still breaks from time to time.
So tell the world;
Paint the roses white.