Fragile is the heart that dreams,
Cruel is the clock.
For our dreams grow ever greyer,
With the passing of the hours,
In fading they grow dearer,
Like the last bright fall flowers.
We don't pick them lest they die,
We wait till they are frail and dry,
then brave with abandon,
we reach out to grab them,
but they are dust in our hands:
Like oak burned to ash,
Still holding it’s shape,
Till touched.
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Canary word: Present
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,734 Reviews
Hi! I really like this poem, and my favorite line was the last one. I like how you used "till" instead of still, I think your word choice is very strong. I also liked the message that you wove into the poem, that the things we love and dream of fade out of our abilities to reach them. Your description and characterization of these dreams is really strong and unique, and the imagery makes the tone and mood very clear. Keep up the good work!!
-E
I love the message of your poem. I understood it to be that our hopes/dreams/aspirations are often neglected to the point where once we are in a position to try to attain them it is too late to do so. The pacing as well as the word choices of your poem are definitely fitting. My favorite lines from your poem are "then brave with abandon, we reach out to grab them, but they are dust in our hands." Keep at it!
Wow! This poem is really intense! Especially for people who live the situation you describe since they know first-hand the bitter inevitable truth of it. The alliteration in:
["cruel clock]
["our" "dreams" "grow" "greyer"]
["like" "last"]
[fall flowers"]
["Till touched"]
[brave abandon]
all add to the pleasant flow of the poem.
Suggestion:
"Fragile is the heart that dreams[.]" or [;]
"With the passing of the hours[.]"
well written poem.