I found a little plastic heart in my bedroom floor today.
Tucked under laundry i should have done,
hiding behind books i havent yet read.
The little plastic heart is painted bright red,
The size of my thumb,
A little happy face etched on the side
I dont know where my little plastic heart came to be
so I put it in my pocket
To take it with me.
Clutched in my hand it’s heart did not beat,
Perhaps it was afraid of being incomplete?
Perhaps my little plastic heart is better off
in my pocket.