Somewhere along the road,
You misplaced my heart.
Could it be in a box, deep
In a wine barrel, swimming
In a cereal bowl,
I don't know.
It was meant to live forever
In a golden treasure chest, filled
With other heirlooms, antiques.
Sitting beside your mother's wedding
Ring, and that broken brown watch
Left by your father, that you can't
Seem to part with. This heart
Was only right with you.
But
Maybe you secretly bagged it up
As a present for my birthday,
Christmas, Valentine's Day, if you were
Brave enough.
A plain white index card, stapled
Along the side. Bolded, black words
"I'm Sorry". With my heart in pieces
Along the bottom.
Comments
Hi T
Your sentiment in this write is topical and universal and so I think a lot of people could relate to the despair if this poem. I would like you to consider that the feel of the piece is more narrative than poetic
In my experience part of the magic of a poem is the beauty and power of its language Some would argue that even though the meaning is obfuscated a poem may still be wonderful if the language enchants; in other words you may wish to ask your self if a poem is kind of flat footed i.e. not musical enough and then work to cultivate by advancing phrasing, word choices in other words the structure of the poem itself A good way to move forward in that direction is to read really great poetry frequently and start use some of the devices you are moved by One good source among many is https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems
Also you might check out some of the poets listed here as favorites
As an example I leave you this by one of my favorites Ocean Vuong
from shattering against her cheek, now dims
like a miniature moon behind her hair.
Best Z