Under Construction

Zoom in.

Little yellow hats sit
On the heads of little men,
As they race around the chambers
And build the walls up once again.

"Please excuse the mess,"
Several orange signs say,
As the whining drills spin 'round
And the hammers pound away.

Rubble and debris
On what used to be a floor,
But since the slight disaster,
My heart is nothing more.

Blood is flowing freely
Down the fault line in the base,
Just another scar
That I can't possibly erase.

Zoom out.

Big and red and pulsing,
An oddly broken shape,
A heart inside an open chest,
Wrapped in caution tape.

I whisper out so quietly,
Surviving mass destruction,
"My heart cannot yet love you,
It's closed down for construction."