There’s a road somewhere that’s paved with hearts.
It won’t be found on any charts.
The hearts are all smashed into parts:
That’s why the ride’s so rough.
Some like to drive on very fast,
Not even caring what they’ve passed,
Plagued by what lies in their past,
And that, for them, is tough.
Some like to revel in the pain,
Reversing back and forth again.
They treat the world with pure disdain
And fail to see their need.
Then there are those that drive in tanks,
Detached from all the other cranks.
They neither want nor offer thanks
And focus on their greed.
From time to time, though, someone stops,
While rushing homeward from the shops.
From their faces streaming drops:
Another paver laid!
And very rarely someone cares
Enough to pause and make repairs.
Somehow they carry bags of spares,
Not wanting to be paid.
But most of us just rush on through,
We’ve all so very much to do.
Our shattered hearts just can’t be tracked,
So better fix them while they’re cracked.
13 June 2014