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The Human Heart


Tis a miracle, the human heart

Needs not a poke in morn to start

Has beat through night, skipped not a tick

Protected by a cage made thick

The thinnest sheath of muscled skin

It wears like shawl and nests within

We know not just how vulnerable

This fist-sized mass of push and pull

All love and hate, our cause of being

The pangs that sway the way we’re leaning

Our joy and sorrow, our gain and lack

This meaty engine keeps on track

Yet it can leap up through our throat

Or sink so deep in murky moat

There’s no point to unlock its stealth

In order to ensure its health

For we cannot compel control

It has the upper hand of soul

I question not how it goes on

When other lights are snuffed and gone

It knows its mind and needs no cue

Engrossed in task it’s called to do

We must respect and stand aside

Give in to its unhampered ride

Dextrous the human condition

To wholly trust without attrition

For doubtful be our mere existence 

If parted from its sheer persistence!

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