searching crowds; so many mother's
daughters defiled; plucked like ripe fruit
from trees;
True hearts where art thou;
foul is the soul that roams lost;
but joyous is the spirit that gazes in forbidden
pastures with born again bastards while
traveling in domestic whips;
True hearts come roll with me, while i rock
in my chair;
True heart come talk with me,
listen to my poetry, without judging me;
True heart, why must you hate me so, cutting
me deep, so deep my soul begins to leak;
feeling the dagger of truth while i listen
and gaze at you; tasting my tears
as you battle your fears;
True heart where art thou;
staked out behind the bushes, waiting
my approach to grab the pulse of my rhyme flow;
True heart come enter my chest and jumpstart my
love!
