My mind is aloof.
Not a thought too kind,
Too ignorant for truth.
Though I cannot blame it,
Life is too cruel.
It is afraid
Of it's ailment,
It runs with no fuel.
But here she is,
My little sweet heart.
Pumping love to me,
From the very start.
Turning thoughts of pain
To ones now mild.
For my heart
Is a mother,

And my mind it's child.