Heartfelt

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1 min read

I buried my heart in a pot of gold

It lay there all gushing and warm,

I locked it tight and looked back once

At its beating form.

.

I hide the key in my folds

Sorted my alarm,

My soul turned blue and cold

But there was no more harm.

.

No pain would touch my heart here

No infliction with burning passion,

No wild love would haunt its depths

No plans of crazy fashion.

.

True, it would suffocate in there

But what a lovely trinket it would make,

this is proper (I was told)

for my sanity’s sake.

.

Here it was safe

From love’s sharp claws,

It would pine, but live

disciplined by stringent laws.

.

No aches in this pot

Just the endless numb,

It would weep at first for me

And later succumb.

.

To the endless silence

For that served it good,

A hellion it had been

misbehaved and misunderstood.

.

The pot will turn it into a stone

And the blood within to rust

The ego will smirk with victory

As one more bites dust.

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