I Do Belong.. Poem by Derrick Andrews

A plank riddled with splinters,
Firmly set in the yard,
Survived countless summers and winters,
Yet still seems unharmed,
The owner of the house,
Thought it best to remove it,
So she set out, in her blouse,
But could not even move it,
Disappointed by her weakness,
She walked away with wounded hands,
Her shy, timid meekness,
Couldn't break the tough bands,
The dry, water deprived soil,
That solidified over years,
Moving it required toil,
And a handful of tears,
So she dawned her gardening gloves,
Her tough working boots,
Took out an iron shovel,
And headed straight for the roots,
But there were many rocks surrounding,
She could not dig them out,
Now her stress was surmounting,
And she became full of doubt,
But in a fit of desperation,
In the midst of stress filled rage,
She gripped the board tightly,
Splinters dashed quickly into her skin,
And tugged upwards so slighly,
With all the strength she had within,
The stick shifted an inch,
Weakened dramatically,
Then flew forth like a finch,
She cheered ecstatically,
Then she glanced at her hands,
A blood smeared mess,
This was not what she planned,
Maybe her choice wasn't best,

At the end of the stick, now worn and tired,
Sat a still beating heart, pierced by its end,
Impossible to heal, though it seemed required,
The scar far too deep, for her to ever mend,
Its heartbeat slowed,
The surrounding air froze,
And as the chilling air blowed,
She grew cold, to her toes,
She had in her hands, this now dead heart,
Once, inside of its owner, now, torn apart.