MY BLEEDING HEART BY STEPHEN OTU-AMOAH
MY BLEEDING HEART
The square sized punctures
Ripped without splatters
My heart exiled from its place,
With hanging sutures
Made to dwell on the street with the squatters
Pushed out of love to a lowly mode
Made to serve my sentence in solitary
A rich man yet with no emotional abode
Now talking to only the imaginary
My head spinning like a lottery wheel
Trying to figure out what really was God’s will
Was this part of the master plan?
Or just an unnecessary flash in the pan
My chest aching like a dog with a tight muzzle
Longing for the final piece to the puzzle
Dripping like a grandfather’s clock
Tick tock, tick tock
I wriggled like a worm
Tossing and turning
My heart palpitating with anxiety
Trying to figure where from this enmity
So fragile was my heart
That it couldn’t endure a little cut
I Hope LOVE is the answer
To the question posed by my bleeding heart.
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