Heart Aches and Heels

Heart Aches and Heels

A Poem by Ken e Bujold

Old loves, like old socks, are better 
left tucked away in a drawer, 
forgotten until necessity 
requires clearing out 
the psychic clutter. 

Trying to mend the tear 
isn’t worth the stitch. 
In time the hole 
just grows back
again.  


Ken e Bujold

© 2023 Ken e Bujold


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

Out of sight, out of mind. Bring them out into the light of day and they worm their way back into your thinking. No old socks in my drawers:) This little bit of brevity made me smile. All the best Ken.

Chris

Posted 1 Year Ago


I’ve dug out some of those old socks only to find the hole got bigger—or maybe I was smaller.

Winston

Posted 1 Year Ago


Ken e Bujold

1 Year Ago

yep, that about sums it up for us, once we reach a certain age
Does it?
Hmmm.
Food for thought.
Good writing.

Posted 1 Year Ago


there's always trying a pacemaker and an auto-toe trimmer APP ??
Just saying

Posted 1 Year Ago


It is when that day comes and you find them, your once favorite pair, waiting for you at the back of the drawer that really makes you happy. But, once you put them and wear them for a while you remember why they were put there in the first place. Nice one my friend. I like the way you said it better...it is much more poetic. :)

Posted 1 Year Ago


Both are known as a necessity of life, but I find that trimming my toenails regularly at least keeps the holes from my socks.
I have yet to find a cure for a torn heart though 🤔

Posted 1 Year Ago


Ken e Bujold

1 Year Ago

yes i too am still seeking answers

Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

101 Views
6 Reviews
Rating
Added on March 8, 2023
Last Updated on March 8, 2023

Author

Ken e Bujold
Ken e Bujold

Somewhere in Ontario, Canada



About
Writers write, it's what we do. Fish swim, woodpeckers peck... writers scribble (inside and outside the lines). more..

Writing
History History

A Poem by Ken e Bujold





Advertise Here
Want to advertise here? Get started for as little as $5