Clash

Fear is the language of the mind, not the heart... (Form: Minute Poetry)

Clash

Can I entrust my heart to you?
I must eschew
another dream
torn at the seam.

Past memories float in the air.
They say “Beware!”
It can’t be real
the way I feel.

The ancient battle, I now find,
between the mind
and needful heart
tears me apart.




Notes

Form:  Minute Poetry is a poem of three 4-line stanzas with a rhyme pattern of aabb. The syllable counts for each line are: 8, 4, 4, 4 – and that is repeated for each stanza. The meter here is iambic, meaning that the poem has a pattern of unstressed and stressed syllables.

eschew – to abstain or keep away from; shun; avoid.

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Ken