This Thing Called A Heart

This thing called a heart, Is a magical thing. It can be shattered to millions of pieces, Cutting anyone who gets too close. It can heat up like the sun, Filled with rage hot enough to burn. It can be an ocean of tears, So sad and blue that everyone weeps. It can burn bright with passion and love, A feeling so pure and innocent. This thing called a heart, Can be shattered in a matter of seconds, But take months or years to fix, Words can mend and heal the heart, But once broken it can never be fixed fully. Like bullet holes in the chest, The pain will go away, But the scars will remain. This thing called a heart, Could tear holes your brain, Destroy those who terrorize, Cause terrible pain. It could burn so hot with rage, That every bridge held close is burned, Every hand that reaches to help blisters. A pain so fierce That everything dear is pushed away. This thing called a heart, Can glow with love and care. That holds you in a powerful embrace, That cures your troubles. Love that has no eyes, To judge or to hate. Love that can help heal those burned and cut, A touchcan reach another's heart, Just with words. Full of feeling and purity, Our purest desires, All rest inside This thing called a heart.