The Heart
The heart keeps more than just a beat
It lives for love and does not sleep
It starts an ends with one in mind
It sparks when hurt, when held unkind
Pressed at times it chases dreams
Looking to rest and sometimes lean
Upon ones shoulder just to rest
Breathing a sigh from woeful stress
Feed it does but not enough
On love and all that mushy stuff
Hungers for more, sometimes denied
Crushed by lies making it cry
Faintly beats when it's alone
Pained to work when hurts condoned
Breaks like glass or so it feels
Stings unkind when wounds it heals
Stretched beyond the shape one thinks
Paints a heart bold red or pink
Restores the calm inside ones soul
As storms will rip what it enfolds
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