What is it like?

What is it like,
to live inside your heart,
with one way walls,
so you see out
but I can’t see in?

I’ve visited once or twice,
but I never saw
anything of you,
you were all packed away.

One day I will surprise you,
with your self all scattered round,
and find out who you really are.

I wrote this poem about 34 years ago, at the grand old age of 17.  I still like it today.