Heartbeat

A hole in the heart

Is not a polo mint start

It is the hole of the pierced arrow

Taken back by cupid in sorrow

The whole of the heart

Is just another body part

Used 90 times a minute

We’d die without it

So why does love grow

Only in the centre of our hearts

To leave someone is surely cruel

Bleeding their heart into a pool

How does the heart heal

It’s not made from skin and bone

It’s pain is a measurement of love

Dictated from the angels above