Tiny prequel here:
A good friend had a heart attack. And though I meant to write him a hopeful recovery poem, this is what I ended up with. He is a poet, a musician and a good friend. Hope you feel well soon, Patrick.
The Butcher
Face open to the world’s prying eyes
every hard-won victory glow shining
every long-battled sorrow pining
gleeful grinning joy in jumbo-size
battered heart-on-sleeve without disguise
beauty and pain so clearly shining
from the Puckish man whose only prize
is love without needless defining
embracing life, but when that heart quailed,
he understood at once and clearly
a broken heart can kill you dead as hell
and so through world-weary pain travailed
it’s no surprise he’s loved so dearly
because we love our broken poets well.
Drift of Bubbles 
Get well soon, to your friend!