A special, short poem about the purpose and struggle of my heart. |
-My Weakened Heart- by Keaton Foster Beating Thumping Expressive Representing Part of a greater Living Breathing Organism Always existing For nothing more Than the spark Ignition to a controlled explosion Meant to move mountains Inclined to burn down forest Through such obliteration A new beginning Is always certain to come My weakened heart Often struggles to start As life itself Shamelessly Unequivocally Pass me right on by Standing still While everyone And everything else Hectically moves about Ordered chaos That I have no part in As simple as I seem Forever complex I dream I am a true believer’s believer And a true child of everything I worship no god of circumstance Because circumstances often change I worship no false deity of hope Because hope is an ideal And ideals are easily burdened By men and what they wish These words Here upon the page The ones that I write And the ones that I own Are the driving force Behind all that starts All that wishes And all that needs to continue My weakened heart Is made strong by its need The need of its own desire The need of its own purpose It does not belong to me I belong to it And what it must do It is what I must follow Where it will take me I have not a damn clue Blindingly I will go Without fear or concern I will always stay true To the spark, the beat And everything that Each precious moment Of my evolving life Comes to mean… My Weakened Heart Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2012. |