i suck at titling

I couldn't fall asleep last night for some reason. I was dead tired, but really excited because my bed was so comfortable and I hadn't slept in it for ten days. I think that excitement kept me awake. Any who, I wrote this poem while lying in my bed. I don't write a lot of poetry. Really only when I'm inspired but I really liked this one so I thought that I would share.

Oh yeah, and I don't really write down any of my poems. Actually, this will be the first. I usually just memorize them, until I'm write new ones. So I don't know how to really use stanzas or punctuation properly. Sorry about that.

Between the trees and the ground,
lies a heart that beats to the rhythm of a grown man,
driven to passion,
bypassing eloquence with standardized authenticity,
telling itself that its broken and it will break again,
and people will stand by in awe,
because you can't tell them why,

Near the edge lies a heart,
that beats to the pace of the wind,
blowing it to the left, to the right,
and to the left again,
fallow, unscathed,
it cuts with the grain,

In my mind there beats a heart,
Like the fire that rages inside of it,
faster and faster until it distorts,
into something miraculous,
something of design,
of purpose and truth,

I wish I held a heart like that,
yet mine lies under a tree near the edge,
until I have faith in it,
Like he does,
then it will beat again