The heart is
Deceitful
Indecisive
Ambivalent
And, frankly
Childish
It's whimsy is
Unparalleled
And it's style is
Overdone
It's either lost
It's mind
Or never had one to begin with
It operates on a level
That is not physical
Not mental
But a completely different
Plane
And it's odd
For lack of a better word
The heart is ominous
It is ambiguous
Perhaps even indifferent
Not caring for the fate of it's
Keeper
Simply chugging
Slumping
Thumping
Along for the sake of it's own being
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 12:41 PM UTC
The heart is
Deceitful
Indecisive
Ambivalent
And, frankly
Childish
It's whimsy is
Unparalleled
And it's style is
Overdone
It's either lost
It's mind
Or never had one to begin with
It operates on a level
That is not physical
Not mental
But a completely different
Plane
And it's odd
For lack of a better word
The heart is ominous
It is ambiguous
Perhaps even indifferent
Not caring for the fate of it's
Keeper
Simply chugging
Slumping
Thumping
Along for the sake of it's own being
Request permission to use this poem