The Ache of Never

a romantic, I may not be, for letting people down is easy.

She was like a ghost:

One moment there,

Holding a beating heart in her palm,

And the next gone. 

The heart left a stray,

Dirtied and beaten from the fall. 

For she was dead, 

Inside her head. 

She cared not,

For she was not made to last.

Nor was love 

In her invisible hand.  

Reviews

[rudelizard]

I love poems like this... short, concise, with a delivery that pounds the senses with imagery and skillful wordplay. I've been the ghost, and I've also been the one scooping my "dirtied" heart off the floor. Excellent piece my friend. Thank you for sharing.

[SleeplessVolcano]

It is so difficult to not be random.....and sadly, some of us even take this tendency into relationships......trading peoples' hearts as if they were mere commodities.....

Beautiful poetry!

[phantom pains]

Thank you for your review and compliments!

[Crispy]

This is a beautiful portrait of a wandering soul, especially that of the shortened attention span that so often grips our modern age. Love is a fleeting things these days, even in the hands of those who were dealt a flush. Good topic, simply writ, but well.

[phantom pains]

You hit the point right on target. Thank you for your review!