Sweetheart

Sweetheart…..no - the word!
Misjudgment bands thy use.
A moment I wearily believed
I had owned thy kind heart,
I longed for those red lips,
Wished the heart entwine
Like a green precious vine
With mine.
The start I have often sought,
Yet the end
I lost.
Tossed like an aimless grain
Bounded to reach such torturous pain
And in love’s reflection,
Mirror of misfortune,
Broken ; ‘tis seven years ill luck.
Oh lord
She is left and gone,
I dying lay upon
And here to you
My lonely heart
Is all.
I own nought .




Poetry by vidura rambachan
Read 151 times
Written on 2023-02-08 at 07:59

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