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.