Go ahead and sink that dagger in my heart.
It feels not the pain.
Slice it in thin bloody slices.
It feels nothing.
Just sees the red droplets,
Fading in the rain
From natures tears and my own.
so step on my heart and give it a kick.
No dice! Go ahead do it twice.
Twist it and wring it out like a wet rag.
No pain will arise from its battered beating entity.
Try to patch it together
With needle and thread.
Glue will not work.
A tear wont be shed.
Just the silent retort,
From no pain.
If that does not suffice
Do it trice
My heart reflects the pain.
Send it rolling down a muddy bank,
To a river of red,
Where all love is lost.
This is a clever poem. It's the equivalent of standing there with a giant bull’s eye target across your chest plastered with two words, HIT ME! This is the complete opposite of what you would expect, but ironically in life people at times subject themselves to these types of situations by their actions. The emotional center we commonly refer to as the heart is delicate easily scarred and takes time to heal. If the effects were physical (visible) as you describe, then maybe people would be more aware of what they are doing to themselves. Probably not, but it's a thought. Nonetheless, a great read I enjoyed it whole-heartedly! Thanks for sharing. 10+
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sounds like much of my life, too much. This poem speaks much truth to the fact that we cannot dodge or avoid the things people choose to inflict on us, and so there is nothing to do but endure them for as long as our blood shall flow into that river you speak of below...