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Heartbeat
July 1, 2018
Windstorms and tornadoes
Prove most people are made out of playdough
Easy to mold,
Or at least that’s what I’m told.
But hidden beneath that misshapen piece
Is a heart made out of gold,
Or so I’m told.
Too many storms and too little shelter
Make the piece crumble
And begin to tumble,
Or at least that’s what I’m told.
But not one piece
Is sold
Without their story untold.
Sold to a new family,
Sells the heart,
And the broken ones learn how to beat
It really is kind of neat,
But sometimes,
Those hearts lost their beat
After learning it again.
And as the broken heart shrivels up,
The owner takes a deep breath and counts to ten.
“Don’t worry, there will come a day when you will beat again.”
© Anonymous
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Not speaking from personal experience.