A TORN HEART by Mide Benedict

Speak to my standing ears,
Can I burn that fire in mind
Without sorrow and odium
Burning theirs with might?
Some say I'm full of none,
No love, no passion not even lust.
Some gossip of my taste and ways,
Ringing bells behind me as I make my path
Through the street and town I stay,
That this heart of mine
Is chained and sealed and
Locked with a key that has
Odysseyed into the bottomless pit.
That my emotions are in exile;
Banished from coming close to a skirt.
Yes, they share no wrong in what they say
But they are dead to knowing what has become of my heart.

Not today,
Nor yesterday,
Have I trained my strength
To lead those hitches of mine
To their death
But I couldn't,
For long have tried
Yet I can't,
For this heart, if truth be adorned,
Has made love a traitor that must be sent to peace.

But now you have to heed my call
All you gossips that stones.

Speak to me,
Can I love with this heart still mine
Or dream of a hip with this terrified sigh?

Tell me, can I?
Speak to my ears,
Can I love with this twisted heart,
Tied down by the pain of some previous kites
Who my heart was at a time bolted to
But through watoness, through lust
They forced it loose?

I was there;
Though in sealed heaven's eyes
There I watched them kiss,
Holding and clinging to each other's waist,
There I watched my best friend
And my Heart tear my love to waste
laying my heart to rest.
Now, tell me,
If you be me,
And me be you,
Will you speak of love as again?

Tell me, if there's hope;
Can I love with this heart again?

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