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
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