Promises are fragile things, all too easily broken. And yet, once you intertwine your pinkies and incant your words, you become bound to another. Soul to soul, eye to eye, with a needle and thread weaving through the very essence of your heart. The blood pumping through my veins and arteries pass through this mystical red string and into yours, just as yours does to mine. A symbol of the covenant promise we made. Yet, you took this thread, the very same one that sewed its way into your being, and expunged it from your heart without a second thought. You acted almost as if the string was never there. The tug on your heart as the cord was ripped out was ignored, like it was just a scratch to you. You forgot that you weren't the only one bound. I was too, and now that you've torn this bond between us and our souls, it's like mine cannot quell it's tears. Grief and sorrow and despair enter my lonely heart as ebony and crimson pool onto the floor beneath, where you once stood. I started realize that, maybe, just maybe, I'm not meant for love.
Please give a detailed explanation about the meaning and main idea of this poem.
The meaning and idea that created this poem is that no matter how close you and a person are, there will always be a chance for them to betray you. People come and go, and once you realize that they don't value you as a person, your perspective on them starts to change. I wrote this in hopes that other youth like myself don't have to struggle dealing with others abandoning them and thinking that they did something wrong, when it might just be the wrong person or the wrong time.
Please explain your writing and thought process regarding this poem.
I wrote this after having to move schools due to my all my friends turning against me due to me not fitting into the standards a transfer student set. It hurt, and I realized that everyone can betray you, even the people who you were sure wouldn't.
Why did you choose to write this poem?
I wrote this because I needed an outlet for my emotions, having been through a tough time a day or so prior to the creation of this poem.
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