Heads Full Of Heart

Here is a poem I wrote, that I like quite a bit. It's technically pretty terrible, and completely unstructured, as it jumps through about three different stylistic structures. About three different sections to it because of that. However, I wrote it from the "inside out" as one of my instructors and/or mentor likes to say it. Comments appreciated, as always.

Titled, "Heads Full Of Heart"

Why do I run?

From that which I care most for?

Or what is it I run from?

Why, is it to be feared?

To whom then do I run?

Or to what or the where?

If none can replace that which I flee,

Then why do I run, I plead.

The answer, not needed,

It is already known,

The disease unheeded,

To its master goes,

Yet knowledge of diseases,

Can do nothing on its own,

So the running is no mystery,

But the question remains,

And while the answer has been given,

The problems still the same,

Believing the lies,

and forgetting the name.

These questions with answers,

They still have pain,

From where does it come,

If the truth is proclaimed?

The vic'try is sure,

But the victor is not,

So this battle continues,

Though the enemy holds naught,

Our own brains don't believe us,

Thus showing the power of thought,

In the end we must still fight,

With our hearts for our heads,

So that hearts will be guided, 

by heads full of heart.