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
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