Well the title could be imperfect, but i like this very much,.......have a read...... Sings its life upon happy moments of silence. And thoughtful times, in its crude innocence. With a mind of its own, crosses every hurdle at a glance. It learns at every step, Still it never fails a chance. It soars into the skies, Sometimes lighter than the air. In times of gloomy desperations, as hard as a stone, lays there. Because broken wings dont flutter, Just above the ground they fly. And broken hearts dont mutter, They only know to cry. So much life in its own, It lies still for life. Throbs for every beat, Every moment, a rhythm perfected. For a soul in love, Still appears to hide away. Running free and unbound, All the night and day. Some things just dont listen, But they never let you down. Its just the pure heart indeed, With a mind of its own.