A poem

What lies within the heart of a human? I only see the red or the blue,

Beat on heart while callous crowds gather convinced of their truths,

What lies beneath righteous rhetoric? I only hear the cry of me, me, me

I look into my pond some days and see it grows less clear, murkier as if the air itself is saturated with sin..

Human hearts beat regardless of the worth of the vessel, or the deeds done with a treacherous hand held to the chest, proclaiming we are the best, truth is ours alone.

What does it mean to be human? If I could guess it may be better to act it out rather than stare at the sun.

What lies in my human heart? That is where poetry starts.

Chris

2025