KEW GARDENS BY VIRGINIA WOOLF

MY HEART

it is full of experiences 

of beautiful  gloom,

it is made of pebble trail faces

of horrible doom.

Also it is in constant scambling

with that elder pain

with a fear rambling

with the memories...slain

it tends to circumvent all

but fail with careless a lot,

all them play with it like a doll

and that causes a blood blot

i wish i could find contentment

not with stout 

but i only have resentment

there is no doubt

i think they find on it some easels

but when i reclemed them

they hide like filthy weasels

like disgusting phlegm.

all day with the sad dead rubbed

with the actions that screw

my heart is very clubbed

but continues looking with love at you..