Value Of The Heart Poem by Matthew Holloway

The heart what value is that
When none care to accept it
It is left to grow old, unruly
Un-nurtured and less social
An awkward graceless entity
Stranger to many things
Stranger still to others
What value is now placed
On this unfamiliar creation
The awkward stranger
Off balance somewhat distant
Perhaps paranoid
Perhaps always on guard
What value exists
On such a commodity
That so many have bypassed
Leaving a forlorn shape
As frightened and strange
As the world may see it
And judge it as such
What value now exists
On the unwanted heart
Where none seem to care for it