Heart

What is this heart

That compels us to do

Things no one ever asked us to?

And why does it ache

When someone you love

Flies away, as if they were a dove?

Where is this heart?

If I opened up my chest, would it be there?

Or is it something that has no particular lair?

Does this heart lie

Not in a place

But with a specific body or face?

How does this heart work?

Is it simply the pumping of blood?

And why is it so often prone to a flash flood?

Those who can’t see it probably live under the assumption

That it’s all make believe

Just a trick one pulls out of one's sleeve

But that’s simply not true, you’d be wise to remember

Heart is no fallacy

It’s just as real as you or me

What is this heart?

Only you know the answer

How does it work?

It’s slow and methodical, yet can multiply faster than cancer

Where does it lie?

It lies not simply in your chest or in some strange land

Dear reader, where else could it be but in the palm of your hand?

Author's Note

Your analyses and opinions are not only welcomed but encouraged