Park Bench

A Poem by Marshall

Your heart is pure if you watch
a man collecting trash cans
four birds tweeting in a sycamore tree
people watching you-talking to yourself
and sleeping on a park bench
to empty your heart of its heaviness.

Your heart is pure if you allow anyone
to listen to your heartbeat
through the cellphone
and you are not sure if you want to laugh or cry

Your heart is heavy
if you cant let go of sadness
and the road you are walking on
turns sharply strewn with tacks
thorny torments and is uneven.

Your heart is filled with happiness
when a familiar voice
whispers softly in your ear
and you want to walk the distance
to snuggle up next to him.

Your heart beats this way
because it shows your endless love!