my heart, the little child


The heart by all measurements exists within the body, so why does mine float around?
It flits and flirts and changes direction and sometimes it just lays on the ground.
It beats and it dashes and unabashedly prances then suddenly it acts all bored.
It orbits my mind like a bloody housefly and distracts me from my daily chores.

Then it goes quiet and I look but it’s hiding, and then it jumps out and goes ‘ROAR!’

Too often it wanders so far astray, I’m afraid it has left me for good.
I never know quite where it has gone until it returns all hurt and misunderstood.
I hold it with love until it recovers and runs off reckless again to the wild.
I always miss it, despite all the trouble, my heart, the little child.

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