How My Heart Functions

a poem by David T Douglas

February 22, 2011
There’s razor wire ’round my heart for protection
There’s also a lock, awaiting the right combination
One day the lock must surely open
Or is that my heart futilely hopin’?

The lock cannot be pried, picked, or sliced
It’s not a game, though you could be diced
What’s needed is a gentle hand with the right touch
But maybe that’s asking for too much

Apparently, loving me is a tireless struggle
And I’m not worth all the trouble

That’s okay, I’m used to it now
But I remember one time how
She professed her love and promised to stay
Then with another she did stray

Now my heart has been nicked and is bleeding
But it has hope and will keep on beating