Confessions Of The Desperately Sick Heart

The confessions of my desperately sick heart,
Are heavier than what a 10-tonner can handle;
Its volume is larger than your imagination,
And its density is higher than Beijing's population.

It is expanding like a balloon...
If you prick it, it explodes...
If you leave it, it still bursts anyway...
The worst part, it can't be twisted into a poodle...

Most hearts do not sleep in peace,
But mine just sleeps like a little baby...
It wakes up every 3 hours to cry like it's an emergency...

Doctors can't heal it...
Symbologists can't decipher it...
Sigmund Freud can't analyse it...
Pharmacists have no prescription for it...
Scientists are flummoxed by it...
Detectives can't solve it...

People that mattered turned a blind eye,
Others sat down to sigh...
'What is wrong with this weird boy?'