The Heart knows not of love,
But of the blood within its pumps.
No one quite knows love at blunt—
Only the coveted Brain does.
The one that can be altered,
Sheltered, and sponsored
In order to function
Towards love at once.
A Heart only suffers
The rise in pressure
Of every single measure
Aimed at its stump.
For as we engage in pleasures
Of trifling Earthly treasures,
It inevitably ends with a lesson
On someone's Broken Heart.
Edwin Cordero's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Heart by Edwin Cordero )
- The Beast, Shannon Paterson
- Mode Of Poetry, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Gathering Compensation, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- 2 of A Kind, Josep Rodriguez
- पाऊस ओथंबुन वाहत असताना..., Amit Anjarlekar
- sometimes we all, Ben Paynter
- Difficult to return, gajanan mishra
- Life Is, Andy Caldwell
- Amn't Gone!, Sir Toby
- There Is Nothing In Me, Shalom Freedman
Poem of the Day
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
- Heather Burns
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)