Hollow Heart

That hollow heart, once plumped and full to bursting with that sweetest of all milks No echo was heard when life's fat fingers thumped against it, to feel it, so ripe and sweet Such abundance it did hold; a trove to be treasured, rich disbursements to be made of warmth and care Now drained; it's flaccid as an empty bladder, with nothing left but a sour smell of bitterness Squeezed; twisted in the ringer to leech the last drops ......and out they dripped, one by one, like bloody tears