The Little Pig

It seems the end is determined before the start
It is only the heart that hopes
And the hearts hope is a mere wish
For the sun to never set
A constant "tug of war"
Between heart and mind

The mind does not know the determined end
As the heart is the only wise one
But a fool he chooses to remain
Or have I become deaf to the hearts voice
To the warning of what is to come
That I stubbornly convince the heart to surrender

But it is I who follow my heart
Is that not what I did, why do I feel this ache
The life flowing out of my chest
Bleeding the false hope of what I desired
The ignorance of me, of the heart
I bleed the life I have left

The little pig let the wolf into his house
The little pig shared his fire, his food
The little pig gave trust, honesty, and love
The little pig did not judge
The little pig now on the floor
Desire the predator of his demise




Poetry by Willem
Read 474 times
Written on 2018-02-03 at 12:40

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