My New Heart

My first heart was broken so many times
I couldn't bear to identify it
And when I returned to do a teaching observation at my old high school
Choir-man remembered me as
the girl who was always crying

My first heart questioned "why me?"
I no longer do
I've chosen what to care about and it's no longer over why

Philosophy asks why
Philosophers ask why not
I simply ask how
And when I really want or need it when I ask
Determines if

My new heart asks how

© Doniell Cushman. All Rights Reserved. This poem or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a review.