Young Heart

I wait, I listen 

For my heart is a new

As it whistles and glistens

My mind occupied 

And I try to deny

That a rose in blooming 

Is a bud's undoing

But I have yet to learn

I have yet to travel

So I let my young heart yearn

Waiting it's turn in dust and gravel

This poem is about: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741