An Ancient Relic

My heart is an ancient relic.

A deserted, rusty remnant of what once, used to be a functional machine. I can feel it creaking and rattling with every breath I take as it miserably attempts to restart. I can hear the agonizing grinding of its gears echoinf through the silence as it struggles to keep up with my desperate endeavorto make it work. 

I just want it work. 

It doesnt have to be perfect, just good enough.

Just good enough.

Good enough.

Good.

Enough.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

Your poem is cute & imaginative – describes exactly how I feel these days. Good use of vivid details to liken this rusty remnant to clunky machinery. The repeated “good enough” phrase suggests that this heart might be slowing down & slowing down & maybe stopped . . . (???) Hopefully things will get going again! That’s how it is at my house on wobbly legs (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie