Ramblings of a heart

Made of blood and flesh;

Unimaginatively, I pump and flush.

Happy with my modest existence;

A loyal servant by all means.

 

Aware the mirror wouldn’t show my opulence;

But still hurt at your overtures to the fallible hair.

When not only am I a part of your life;

but the very means .

 

I never get acknowledged ;

Other than as a lame figure of speech.

For I’m prefixed sweet, when you both grow fond;

I’m your favorite parlance, when you two bond.

 

And one fine day, when you two break;

Detached and audibly; you proclaim me to be broken.

Making me a pawn to a game;

That only needed my name.

But even as a depiction of romance, I’m not spared;

For the cupid with a dart also gets me scarred.

 

When you milk me till the last drop;

My labor & love violated.

Resilient like a union;

I shut shop. 

Bringing to your attention;

Who’s on top.

 

Remember when asked,” If do you have a heart?”

Your behavior is the figurative aspect;

and I’m the literal part.

 

 

 

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6 thoughts on “Ramblings of a heart”

  1. A poem that reveals its subject only at the end earns itself a second reading with a new perspective. And second readings happen to be the best because while we look for what the writer says on our first reading, we look for how he says it on our second. So extra brownie points for you there.
    Wonder what the inside of the mind that writes like this looks like.

    Like

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