Challenge Day 7: Write Poetry: about your heart—not what it does or who it loves, but the odd and weird stuff it is made of

The heart, you see,
it's a peculiar thing.
It is made out of the same things that help our arms move,
but yet, it beats by itself.

I don't get it, how does walls of muscles,
the same things we eat if it's on a cow,
move by itself?
I heard it's very tough, this muscle.
The shape is about the size of our fist,
dont'cha know?

After googling, I found out
the human heart is indeed the size of our fist
but it is pear-shaped.
See, pears are good for our health,
our hearts, pffttt, same thing.

I was also informed that
this muscle, the ones we eat if it's on a cow,
is special with a name of myocardium.
Similar to us when we cover ourselves over the head with a blanket,
the heart has a double-layered pouch,
in which smart people who discovered it had named it a pericardium,
instead of just calling it a heart pouch.
I think they just like to sound smart.
If you ask me what is this pouch for,
I'm guessing that it's to protect the heart's money
or it's for the same reason
we bury ourselves in a blanket when we were six.