Clouded, in a daze I stoop to linger
that in a passing glance I can rise and be forgotten.
I have failed you, yet once again I find
myself unable to mask your memory or slip
away into the night. Heart, please help me for
you have tempted me in the least. I cannot plead
any harder, and you know what must be done.
"Heart, we will forget him!" whether it kills me
in the end. The throb of a long lost beat, explodes in my chest
and I cannot for the life of me forget.
But what was it that I wished not to remember?
We may forget the smile of a thousand tears, and
the whisper of a thousand trees. We may forget the
burning eyes of a passion forever untrue.
We can forget him heart, but only if I can forget you.
A contest entry
- The Mind of Emily Dickinson by PoetessA.L.OPrunty.
700 points, ended October 13, 9 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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This is a heart-rending piece overflowing with anguish, Poet. The only "critical" suggestion I'd offer would be to perhaps lighten the font another shade or more. Although it is a pretty color to look at, it's very difficult to read, especially for those of us who spend hours doing just that. And that, after all, is the point of posting, is it not? To be read? Nevertheless, this is a worthy tribute to Emily Dickinson's well of sorrow and depth of heart. Good luck in the contest. 
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Thank you for entering my contest. I enjoyed this piece very much.
Good Luck!
A. L. O'Prunty
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