You tore my heart from my sleeve
And wore it as your own,
Replacing the broken and tarnished one
That you had too long,
I thought that you were happy then
As your new heart grew old,
Experiencing what it shouldn’t have,
What it was too naive to know.
Without my heart I could not tell
What you really felt,
So when you left and dropped my heart
I watched in horror as it fell,
Finally feeling the thud as it hit the floor.
To the untrained eye it’s perfect, untouched,
But the experts and I can see
The hairline fractures.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Absolutely beautiful poem and imagery! I love the way you gave your heart away for him to wear on his sleeve.... please read my poem 'That boy has my heart! ' - you might find similarities... although on a simpler scale. Thanks, and well done. Yuri*