I buried my heart in a pot of gold
It lay there all gushing and warm,
I locked it tight and looked back once
At its beating form.
.
I hide the key in my folds
Sorted my alarm,
My soul turned blue and cold
But there was no more harm.
.
No pain would touch my heart here
No infliction with burning passion,
No wild love would haunt its depths
No plans of crazy fashion.
.
True, it would suffocate in there
But what a lovely trinket it would make,
this is proper (I was told)
for my sanity’s sake.
.
Here it was safe
From love’s sharp claws,
It would pine, but live
disciplined by stringent laws.
.
No aches in this pot
Just the endless numb,
It would weep at first for me
And later succumb.
.
To the endless silence
For that served it good,
A hellion it had been
misbehaved and misunderstood.
.
The pot will turn it into a stone
And the blood within to rust
The ego will smirk with victory
As one more bites dust.
Very beautiful ๐๐
How beautifully you’ve described the heart’s pain and found solace for it.
Wonderfully expressed๐๐
Thnks
No no thatโs not right . Self imposed punishment. Beautifully expressed
Don’t Do it! Let’s be crazy ..
Beautiful poem!๐๐
Thnks
Thnks
Beautiful poem!๐๐
Very well crafted๐
Wow ๐