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A Fixed Idea

Rating: 2.8

What torture lurks within a single thought
When grown too constant, and however kind,
However welcome still, the weary mind
Aches with its presence. Dull remembrance taught
Remembers on unceasingly; unsought
The old delight is with us but to find
That all recurring joy is pain refined,
Become a habit, and we struggle, caught.
You lie upon my heart as on a nest,
Folded in peace, for you can never know

How crushed I am with having you at rest
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Susan Williams 28 March 2016

Yes. Even if loved to the very soul of us, a person or a thought can become the heaviest of burdens on our sense of freedom

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