Heart

What is this heart
That compels us to do
Things no one ever asked us to?
And why does it ache
When someone you love
Flies away, as if they were a dove?
 
Where is this heart?
If I opened up my chest, would it be there?
Or is it something that has no particular lair?
Does this heart lie
Not in a place
But with a specific body or face?
 
How does this heart work?
Is it simply the pumping of blood?
And why is it so often prone to a flash flood?
Those who can’t see it probably live under the assumption
That it’s all make believe
Just a trick one pulls out of one’s sleeve
But that’s simply not true, you’d be wise to remember
Heart is no fallacy  
It’s just as real as you or me
 
What is this heart?  
Only you know the answer
How does it work?  
It’s slow and methodical, yet can grow faster than cancer
Where does it lie?
It lies not simply in your chest or in some strange land
Dear reader, where else could it be but in the palm of your hand?