State of My Heart

State of My Heart
My heart just picks what it sees, 
And there is no end to it. 
Wanders with hurt knees, 
it just doesn’t sit. 
My heart has seasons, 
Such eeriness, easily foretold . 
Sometimes dull for no reason, 
Yet bright and yet bold. 
With every fumble it grows, 
wants love to the fullest. 
After every strife it shows, 
Sorry, sorrier, sorriest. 
It feels grey yet bright ,
Confused yet sorted. 
Needs what is right, 
Sometimes it retorted. 
It knows what lies inside, 
But ego wins.This isn’t rare. 
And so the emotions reside, 
In the depths, somewhere. 
My heart just picks what it sees, 
And it rests on few. 
Rests. Breathes. Frees. 
It began to love you. 
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Satvik Vatsa
I find the right words and they are simple. Love surprise endings.
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