My Bleeding Heart Poem by Ada Mae Compton

My Bleeding Heart

Rating: 5.0


My bleeding heart
makes scarlet snow in winter
and crimson mud in spring.

My bleeding heart
streams sanguine from its center
and neither beats nor sings.

My bleeding heart
remembers all last summer
and every dropp of fall.

My bleeding heart
aches for rest and slumber
and needs familiar walls.

My bleeding heart
weeps in silence while it grows
and wasn't meant to roam.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
This is a poem about not being home anymore. I have many others under the category 'powerful stuff' on my wordpress blog. Just google my name, and you should be able to find them quite easily.
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