Ant Smith
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Short Poetry

The Way To A Man's Heart

The way to a man's heart is through his veins

Vanity and ego courses through the blood

Skin and bone may bear the wickedest pains

But it's capillaries that contain his love

The way to a man's heart is through his eyes

Bigger in his head than on the outside

Tongue twisters treasonably tell true lies

It's optical sockets that hold what he hides

The way to a man's heart is through his chest

With boot stamp or brickbat or bloody knife edge

Calcified cages can conceal sense of dread

The man is alive, who dares bare his breast

Short Poetry