I decided to share a piece of poetry—a sonnet—I wrote for all those whose hearts are sad, in need of repair, or are truly broken this Valentine’s Day. I wrote this a few years ago and hope you like it.
Cracking, A Sonnet
Forlorn, the faltering heart has no reason
to fill you with false hope and pay mind to your sanity;
whether there is heat or cold, it disregards season,
and pays no attention to matters of formality.
It breaks nonetheless whether anyone can hear
the silent scream, the muted moan—
inside, aching, but on the outside appears
calm; the whisper of a desperate groan.
Why is it a breaking heart makes no noise?
Unfathomable, really, that the ear can’t detect
the sinking, shattering, cracking, crippling lack of joy;
it used to be intact and you’d never expect
that a breakage like this can’t repair with glue
and that the red of the sunset has lost its hue.