Saturday, December 20, 2014

Poor heart

I’m rolling and rolling down to the sea
where everything is just as it seems
because I want to know, indeed I do,
the truth is the truth and not a lie.

Tired, I’m tired, of feeling the lie
with no proof to sustain the view
until years down the line, this life line,
when time decides the time is right.

Not yet is it time and mind back and forth
from heart’s decree to its own confines
that hold it tight and securely in
its very own point of view. 

Mind must be right, you know, you know,
because facts are now and forever the truth
and heart, poor heart, simply knocks at the door
locked and bolted. alarmed, monitored.

No matter, no matter, mind knows there’s an end
to that insignificant knock, knock, knock,
because heart, poor heart, too weak and frail
to cut off mind’s security system.

Heart, poor heart, but you know what they say;
“You’re only as poor as you think you are”!

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