Thorny heart


By: Bethelhem Teame

Chilliness that has nothing to do with the cold weather whooshes by

Freezing my bones, all my senses; I can’t even cry

All I know is I’m cold inside

And that coldness is spreading outside

My heart has turned into an ice stone

Its chambers as cold as a tombstone

Cold, distanced and dark

My face empty and stark

Devoid of any emotions I had

Somehow it narrates that I’m sad

The new Gardner wants to plant flowers in my heart

vowing to change it into a beautiful sight

only to run away after a mere pricks of a thorn

That have grown abundantly without being sown

Here comes another one

And after him follows one

but here to stay, none

I smile but it doesn’t reach my heart

like the sun rays that fail to penetrate the dark part

I heard the heavy bronze doors close behind

 All its high walls I saw them stand

All the visitors camp outside

No guest is welcomed inside…

to the chambers of my heart

to the quarters of my trust

so it remains vacant

The new teacher promised to teach me affection

To make me experience the rules of attraction

To sway my body to the tunes of its dance

To lose myself in deep romance

But when my heels dug deeper into his feet

blood spilled, and I’ve not seen such a retreat

Here comes another one

And after him follows one

but here to stay, none.

If I could post a vacancy to hire a heart,

teacher or gardner?which one would last?

Who  doesn’t run when he gets hurt,

stays patient and vows to protect?

should I hire a teacher? Or perhaps the gardner?

who would actually forfeit his heart?

To pluck the thorns in my heart with his heart…




6 thoughts on “Thorny heart”

  1. The latter is already in the habit of plucking thorny edges as well as savoring the beauty of mother nature!

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