The wandering heart
Is a stranger in a coat
A scarecrow vintage and old
Left me many years ago
The wandering heart knows no home
Roaming the land looking for those it knows
But rather unknown
This heart I have
The wandering heart is a shed in the forest
Unattended and porous
Moss strewn floors
To young hearts it has been abetted and undone
My wandering heart grows cold
Looking for light in a dark circle of a world
Revolving on hearts pumping
Focused on a world of skepticism and critique
My heart is growing cold
