Love In Toronto

Up the hill, in a box you will find my sacred heart.
It will be under a sycamore tree.
Open the box if you will.
However you can not touch it.
It has bled too many times.
It is frail and weak now.
My sacred heart lies within.
Open the lid and you will see.
A heart torn to pieces.
When will my sacred heart be free.
The day you learn to love me.

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 13th, 2007 at 8:13 am and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.