to Marcy Howard
As a heart, reaches out, the past, holds it back,
Hesitating, out of fear, the train, off the track,
Conditioned by, the many tears, that fall, over time,
Reduced, to utter, solitude, morphing, into a mime.
A heart, reaches, for a mate, yet, only one, has the key,
As destiny, or even fate, avoids, the number three,
Will the heart, regain,.it’s hope, or will hope, become a lie,
Does, a heart, comprehend, with out water, it will die.
Will, the heart, carry on, can it, really survive,
If because, of the past, it does not feel alive,
If your heart, finds another, can it, truly see,
That every heart, reaches out, attempts, are made for free.
Once, the heart, finds it’s mate, it still, could be alone,
Overlooking, who, it found, lost, in the unknown,
The heart, lives, inside us all, feels, so many things,
And when two hearts, find real love, life, is what they bring.