My Heart Is Like an Onion

by R. P. LISTER
MY HEART is like an onion, you may peel it if you will.
But you will not find a kernel like a protoplasmic pill;
In the middle of my middle lies another middle still.
Many layers has that onion; I have peeled them one by one
From the fading of the planets to the setting of the sun,
But the task was so enormous that it hardly was begun.
Non could peel it for a fortnight, you could peel it for a year,
But the end that you were seeking would still be nowhere near,
Though you peeled in utter frenzy, crying madly. Is it here?
There is nothing in the middle, say the wise ones, with a sigh;
There is nothing in the middle, say the wise ones, and they lie,
There ate forty million middles, and every one is I.
And some of them are virtuous, and some of them are ill.
And every tiny layer - you may peel them if you will —
Conceals another layer that is even smaller still.