My heart is a football,
one minute sailing gaily
upon a goal-bound breeze
the next, plopping pitifully
into an awaiting puddle.

Sometimes it ends up in the net,
other times it glances off the goal post,
but still it continues to skid merrilly
across the muddy pitch.

My heart is a football
and sure, drop-kicking
has scuffed it a bit,
but I don’t know
I’ve got quite attached to it.