Clichés and Torn Paper

Tinkling melodies of naive hope echoing metallically through the stony chambers of a heart, aimlessly meandering, bouncing off the hardened walls. Find no escape, no crack to inhabit, no window from which to leave, growing louder with each wall encountered. A din builds, a storm brews. A cacophonous music pounds, emanates. No one listens, nobody hears the tinkling melodies that are its noise. Out pour clichés and torn paper.