The Heart shuts its doors—
under iron lock
and chains—thick and Cold
choking it
like a serpent.
In its chamber
the Poison spreads.
The Heart is sick—
shriveled, black.
Who put You
in your prison?
The Warden?
The One with the black eyes?
Who threw away the key?
Or was it Yourself?
The Heart seeks Warmth,
yet you Hide it away.
Break it Free.
YOU ARE READING
The Heart Shuts Its Door
PoetrySimply a little something I wrote for class. Inspired by the poetry of Emily Dickinson.
