Author's Note: While reading chapter four in All Quiet on the Western Front, the idea that one must be broken in order to have the ability to feel whole was heavily displayed. Without bumps across the way, it is impossible to know or feel what "good" feels like. Along with incorporating a mimic line from Remarque, I decided to write a poem, explaining how things must be broken in order to be whole, good again.
Broken
Beating, pulsing
Slower and slower,
Her heart thumps on in misery,
Reminiscing her old, lost love.
Her body folded, draped over
The couch, she hasn't moved
For days, days spent
Crying, breaking, shattering.
Lower than ever,
She is sure she has reached the end,
Her heart can take no more--
No more pain, sorrow, remembrance.
Nights fall, mornings rise.
And still no movement,
Still lying hopeless,
Drowning in her grief.
Finally a change.
The girl rises,
Not only from the couch,
And permanent position,
But from her deepest depression.
The sun shining though her windows,
She leaves her house,
Leaves her old memories,
Her old love,
Her sadness.
With newly found energy,
She walks.
Taking in the summer atmosphere,
She picks her heavy head up..
And sees him.
The quickening of her heart
Refreshes her mind,
The brokenness rushes,
Quickly out of her,
Everything changes.
Feeling better than ever,
A cure crosses her face--
A smile.
No more sorrow,
No more sadness,
No more tears.
Mimic Line
"The roar of the guns makes our lorry stagger, the reverberation raging away to the rear, everything quakes."(53).
The quickening of her heart refreshes her mind, the brokenness rushes quickly out of her, everything changes.
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