He fanned my heart in the heat
And held it from those who hearts eat
He stood behind me and was neat
Like a loyal butcher tending to his future meat
I was fed and made relaxed all the time in a seat.
Even when I needed to dance to a beat
He held up strong in a singing feat
Now I see it all in a picture, he could develop a fake teat
Just to make sure I had milk instead of a spoilt meat
Because I was in the butcher’s seat
Once I was ripe, with implanted hands, he pulled my heart in the cold heat
Without cutting any part of my body. I felt no heat
I only felt needles on the once comfortable seat
He then left with my dead eyes watching his gallant feat
A pox on you! Heartless heart that only saw me as a human peat
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014
2 replies on “THE BUTCHER OF HEARTS”
An old poem, I thought I’d share after you shared your mind boggling piece.
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Beautiful and mixed heart-aches
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