The Vase Poem by Greg Oosterhouse

A vase, made of crystal or molded clay,
In and of itself, beautiful in its own way.
By itself it is a lovely piece of decor.
A delight to the eyes, that is what it is there for.

But what good is a vase, with nothing in it?
Its main purpose is to hold flowers within it.
An empty, giant void it has with nothing inside it,
That its owner just might as well hide it.

My heart is a vase, decorating my chest.
In and of itself, a part of me that I love best.
Without anything in it, however, it is dull and boring,
A cold, dank place in need of love for storing.

If my heart is a vase, then you are a rose.
You beautify me with your presence, and love grows.
When people see me, they see the beauty inside.
You in my heart brightens the day, and darkness hides.