Post Mortem

When I die
I want them to take out my heart
I want them to take it out
And look at it closely
I want them to observe where it was wounded.
Where the scratches and bruises have made their mark
Where the cuts have healed
Where they have crisscrossed with other scars.
Is that how all men and women live?
Our hearts have been broken and battered so many times.
But how did we still survive?
Who gave it the faith to keep beating?
When I die take my heart and observe it closely once.
Take a close look before discarding it once and for all.