Your Heart was Not Mine? | Short Poem No. 104

“You swore to me that your heart was not mine.
So why cry, babe, when I leave every time?”

your heart is not mine
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

“You swore to me that your heart was not mine.
So why cry, babe, when I leave every time?”

From the moment he spied her, he had them:
Feelings he thought were dead in adolescence.
Or, like when Eve was first spied by Adam;
Feelings that leave you dead to all sense.

She was bored that day. . .or. . .is every day.
Particularly not amused by him.
Fine enough to catch what he had to say.
But, as routine, her attention was thin.

“Blah blah. . blah blah . . .” was all that she had heard.
At least, that’s how she fancies it to seem.
Her presumed indifference dissolved his nerve
because she veils her glances in between.

“You swore to me that your heart was not mine.
So why cry, babe, when I leave every time?”

I’m Letting It Go [Again]

© Joey Who? and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

Author: Jonathan Pines

I'm writing with all of life's saltiness, perfecting poetry in the process.

10 thoughts on “Your Heart was Not Mine? | Short Poem No. 104”

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