The Heart

Such a fragile tool within our chest quietly beating beneath our breast The heart can open up like a bright sunny day or sag like a weeping willow as the breeze slowly sway the heart lights up like dawn after the night or holds back like a small boy in fright the heart fragile like a cub in the snow or magnificently performing like a troupe with a show the heart is alone trapped in a well or an adventurous old man with secrets to tell the heart can be cold like ice in the arctic or progressively hot a new item on the market the heart can be alive unable to be bled or the heart can be dying R.I.P. we mournfully said