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