Whole Heart


How far must the run be, to escape love’s cold hand?

I’ve suffered a broken heart

Yet a crushed heart to instant death

I gladly would have claimed


The determination of a love’s unstable matter

Released by the broken heart,

Will either mend itself back together

Or pull itself farther apart


Great is the heart that is mended

Unlucky the heart that drifts away

Slowly tortured—left for dead

As if in a tornado’s wake


But be watchful of the mended heart

Although the outer looks to have no change

The magnitude that it has suffered,

Would not permit it to function the same


The pain of a broken heart leaves the beckon cries for death

Yet is only granted torture, that comes from the open arms of



To mend a broken heart, the task is far and great as a river

Raging long


Now I have succumbed to what the wise men of old had told

To never fall in love, is the sacrifice that keeps the heart a


 From the book” Writers of Words