the un-mending wall

When there is none to heal it
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Long, long it stood,
With timbers fashioned strong and true,
It gave a piteous groan, and so it broke;
And I was unaware.

Why should I strive to set the crooked straight?
And stoop and build ‘em up with wornout tools;
Because of the little lights and flickers and interruptions,
For trusted lover proved untrue?

I look at you, and I sigh.
One parting strain, and then away.
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And mine is the face you shall look for when you are dying.
I have gone my way and left you free.
And the rotten rose is ripped from the wall.


11 thoughts on “the un-mending wall

    1. Once I had an idea what I wanted the poem to convey, I used search functions to find poems that might have lines that would work. It was great to explore all of these poems, most of which I had never encountered before.

      Liked by 1 person

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