« A Short Study of a Tired, Uncaffinated Mind | Main
November 11, 2007
The Heart Which is Itself
poetry
my body feels broken;
my heart's wings have snapped.
life's meaning has left me,
and with it my heart's other half.
I wait to find new people
to show who I truly am.
but why need I wait?
who can I scare by acting true,
except for myself?
so I'll dance in the rain; I'll rejoice in every drop.
I'll live for the sake of love, I'll grin at the face of death.
for there is no greater beauty than a heart which is itself.
Posted by Trevor Savage at November 11, 2007 7:09 PM