December 21, 2009
The key to my heart is nowhere to be found,
for I remain the innocent that are bound,
though thoughts remain mischievous in whole,
my body leads me differently at a toll,

My mind says do this,
my hands say do that,

My heart says love this,
my mind says no
love that.

The only spirit with no power at all,
is that of my heart which continues to crawl,
For I am a mechanism that was built to be sprung,
when told to but not when I feel undone,

My heart may scream all it likes,
for it has slept through pain for all it’s life,
but no matter what it may feel I must always stay away from what’s not real.

The imagination of my soul stays gagged and silent forever,
I may be strong,
my heart may be right,
but I must be the clever.

That which does not feel,
as to act without jurisdiction,
so I may head all of the mischief,
in my own dominion,

For though a con I may be,
and a bird tied to earth,
my heart still beats to be set free.

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