Paper hearts.

Unhappiness and love make paper hearts and scrunch them into balls

Aiming at the atrcular souls hanging on the walls,

This is the town of mundain smiles
laughter Wakes is white streched  coats,

Nothing heavy all but high
How heaviness never floats,

For all the flowers nearest windows 
seek the shade and always burn

The sun is best within the noon 
When birds begin to perch 

Summer escapes  the boundaries 
And leaves autumn there to fall

And still it's unhappy and love
Scrunched within a ball.