My heart is like a cleft pomegranate
Bleeding crimson seeds
And dripping them on the ground.
My heart gapes because it is ripe and over-full,
And its seeds are bursting from it.
But how is this other than a torment to me!
I, who am shut up, with broken crockery,
In a dark closet!
Miscast Ii
Amy Lowell
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Poem topics: dark, broken, crimson, torment, heart, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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