When Love Dies Young

Experimental.

When love dies young,

like a rose plucked by a curious

kid's stubby fingers, right after 

it bloomed in full sight.

The poet clutches his pen, still,

in a maddening rush, scribbling 

half writ songs with no endings...

the fire crackles quietly in a corner,

and even its heat is not enough

to melt the frost which envelops 

the air; when words are spewed but 

future seems bleak, as sand 

in an hourglass slips by, waiting 

to be upturned, and yet another 

love dies young, while the crowd 

watches in sheer indifference. 

Reviews

[Ted Kniffen]

I like this Doc. There are many forms of love that can die young...not all are between lovers. I like the idea that we scribble thoughts down quickly...sometimes not understanding what those phrases may become...
I am guilty of this. Sometimes the thought comes in the middle of the night...at times when I am writing something else...sometimes I lose them.
Your experiment works well...one thing though...I understand the hourglass allegory, but my hourglass does not tick. However, I like it and I am not sure how it could be changed...it's good as is.

A good write, Doc.

[Dr. YumnaKay]

Ah Ted, thank you so much for pointing out that mistake. Def something over which I deserve the smack Gee talks about in his poem hahah. I did change it but maybe I'll rework over this.
I'm glad you liked it anyway. Thank you for the lovely review. Much appreciated :-)

[Ted Kniffen]

Lovely change, Doc. You found a way to make a beautiful piece shine ever greater. I like it.

[Verse]

Great metaphor here, Yumna, all brilliantly clear. The frost that envelops the air. You can almost taste it. :):)

Brilliant writing, even if the subject matter is supposed to be sad.

V

[Dr. YumnaKay]

Thank you so much for the lovely words here, V. I'm glad you appreciate :)

[An owl on the moon]

Your words are filled with a weeping, an aching sorrow in love's loss. Two young high school boys from my town were just killed in a car crash, and I couldn't help but think of them... their families and friends.. their love gone forever. We can never know when life and love will slip away, but may we live as poets every single day, finding the deepest places of our souls to speak over us and give us breath.

[Dr. YumnaKay]

Thank you so much for reading and sharing your thoughts here, Craig. Appreciated x

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the others watch with indifference...they have seen it too many times...love that dies...and they have attended enough wakes and funerals of relationships...
unfortunately the poet gets no real closure and simply writes and writes trying to find some ending.
i love the line "half-writ songs with no endings" not only for the image...but "writ" being a slang form of write or written which enhances the idea of the half poems...the word is not complete, nor is the thought.
j.

[Dr. YumnaKay]

I like how you took the meaning of that word. I was mainly going with the flow while writing that line though...thank you so much for reading and appreciating, Jacob. :)

[john l smith]

I sometimes wonder if the crowd has mushroomed to such a volume, that indifference is now the norm
Yes, still many partly written poems and songs looking for endings.
Is that also a norm?

[Dr. YumnaKay]

I like to think that indifference is a way of living, or rather survival. We're rarely affected by anything until it directly affects us in some way. So perhaps that is the adapted norm, yeah.
Thank you so much for your insight here, Dave. Much appreciated.

[free spirit]

Hi, This is such a profound piece. One can actually feel the emotion of love cut short way too soon. Good writing, well done :)
Take care and stay blessed..

[Dr. YumnaKay]

Thank you so much for the lovely review. I'm glad you appreciate. :)