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Keats may’ve died of consumption
And Dante in his personal hell
But no one ever died of a broken heart
Or so I’ve heard them tell

Shakespeare’s mortal coil had shuffled
And Byron could a-rove no more
But no one ever died of a broken heart
Of that much they are sure

All of Auden’s clocks had stopped
Dickinson felt death in her brain
But no one ever died of a broken heart
Though it’s heavy as a ball and chain

Blake had entered Jerusalem
For Carroll, Wonderland beckoned
But no one ever died of a broken heart
Yet I wish I could any second

Miss Rossetti’s winter was bleak
Thomas raged into that good night
But no one ever died of a broken heart
At least not without a good fight
I've left it quite vague but I intended the final line to read as a triumph over pain rather than a surrender to it.
i am a mountain stream
meandering through
a rocky mountainside
one day to stop
and become
still
a deep pool
of those who meandered
before me
whose channels
cut into the earth
with speed and power
to ease my journey

i am always becoming
never ceasing
in the plummet towards
oblivion
i was born in the sin
of my forefathers
tarnished by the acid rain
of my surroundings
and my mistakes
lie in me
as impurities
that only time will filter
I've been having one of those weeks where I've been angry at my body and brain for failing me. I so desperately want to be out living my life the way I want to. I want to worker harder, volunteer more, get my voice back literally and figuratively...be a better friend, daughter, housemate, lover...I want to bring joy and laughter to the people in my life...and the ones on the periphery...and the ones that I don't even know yet. I feel like screaming to the world and reminding it that I have a soul. That when I look in the mirror, the light in my eyes hasn't died, but been eclipsed by a dirt ridden, calcified soul that so desperately wants to be beautiful again.
At night the time is ripe enough to mate:
In close proximity, we duly prowl  
Thro’ slumb’ring streets advancing, cheek by jowl,
With caution like a tiger’s guarded gait.

For us, our claws convey both love and hate,
Into the sea, our songs we shriek and howl
Of treachery and longing hear us yowl;
Bewitching all with beauty is our fate.

For you, I am your ever-loving slave -
Upon your feline charms I’d happ’ly sup!
To have you by my side is all I crave,
Like cream tea we could lap each other up.

Oh! What loving phrases we could hiss
While resting by the hearth in endless bliss.
A work in progress.

— The End —