I wrote this poem in 1986, 18 years old. Youth is celebrated, but young hearts can wither, too. Pain, grief, loneliness and unrequited love know no age. Compare this poem to Death of a Girl, written two years earlier in 1984, at age 16.
What is it that withers
Young hearts
Is it the pain we carry
Over the years
Silent pain that none see –
Is it the unshed tears
One bears
Behind the serene eyes?
Is it the horror
Behind the beauty
Is it the age
Behind the youth –
Hidden from the living world
Yet is the burden of the soul?
What then wounds the soul?
Is it the love
One fought to keep
And hoped to cherish
That love which betrayed
One’s dreams?
Is it the hope
That never bore fruit
Or the unhappiness
Which did bear thorns –
And bled the soul
So dearly?
Is it the loneliness and grief
Life teaches mercilessly
To the innocent
That robs youth of its glory –
And gives it instead
The rags of maturity?
Vanita Shukla Hork, 1986
If you liked this poem, you will enjoy my book Memories from another Lifetime: Pain. Available on Amazon, free on KindleUnlimited. Please do leave a review.
Dramatic question with dramatic answers. Surely deep insight at the age of writing, the harsh reality check almost a warning.
Thank you so much, John! I would have been 18 years old at the time, and think I might have been a bit too harsh. Age has since shown that maturity can bring both rags and riches!
What is it that withers a young heart? Very thought provoking for an 18 Yr old to ponder. Many answers to this question as experiences are unique to an individual. It perhaps comes to reality facing the ideal.
Thanks for the feedback and for sharing your thoughts, Armando 🙏 I agree with you, ultimately the idealism of youth meets harsh reality, always a painful experience.
Wonderful words and feelings beautifully portrayed Vanita.
Thank you so much, Steve, I’m truly honoured 🙏
The honour falls on all of us who you allow us to share the enjoyment of your poetry.
Thank you so much 🙏🙏🙏