Stolen Hearts

After the verdict,

The media outside the court asked her how she was feeling;

"Vindicated." She replied, tears in her eyes,

"Really, really grateful

That it's publicly been shown

That you can't just take someone's heart and use it for yourself

Just because you're jealous

You don't have one of your own."

A few of her opponents tried to jeer from the sidelines,

But mostly, they were silent.

Now they realised

they'd have to turn in their own contraband organs,

before the law came for them.

The government announced an amnesty.

Hearts were returned anonymously

even though their owners knew who'd snatched them.

They came in buckets, in jars, in boxes,

In varying states of repair;

none of them undamaged.

One man had dozens stored under his bed:

Labelled.

"Disgusting." hissed a police officer with a hole in her chest.

"I would bang them up for life."

She quit her job and took hers home

to nurse it back to health.

Weeks and weeks passed;

against everybody's expectations,

the flood of hearts did not slow.

Investigations were launched;

retired detectives came back from lovely islands to speculate

on how the scale of such a problem had been missed

on their watch.

Eventually it was discovered

claimants were handing back their own vital organs in their droves.

They had realised life was easier without them.

Thank you for reading my poem - I'd really appreciate a heart if you liked it!